I see the clouds
Lined up in a row,
And around their rims
They brightly glow.
They bring the rains
To the earth below,
And with the rain
They bring us woe.
You yourself are like a cloud
With its radiant glow.
Your raindrops are your teardrops,
Brought about by sorrow.
Feb. 6, 1977
© 2010 – 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.