Clouds… They Are Not

Pastel paramours

Of sun-setting hues,

Those ephemeral provocateurs

Ever bidding adieu,

They call themselves clouds

While roaming the blue

Expanse of the skies

Seeking adventures anew. 

I’ll call them none other

But the name that is truth,

For clouds they are not. 

They’re the memories of youth. 

–C. Green



8 thoughts on “Clouds… They Are Not

      • It’s wonderful, how we find the opposites of the same word (clouds, in this case) to talk and write about. I find my own article about it, quite the antithesis of your poem… I loved it ๐Ÿ™‚

        Liked by 1 person

      • It is wonderful! There are so many directions we can take a writing prompt. Someone asked me earlier why I didn’t feel stifled being given and exact topic or word, and your response evoked my feeling… they don’t restrict creativity at all… just focuses our mind to the task of creation ๐Ÿ™‚ No one ever ends up writing about the same thing!

        Liked by 2 people

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