I watch the clouds,
The clouds go by.
They drift across
an empty sky
and dissipate,
as so do I.
To mountains, seas,
and deserts dry,
are not we measly
cumuli:
just barely born
before we die?
I watch the clouds,
The clouds go by.
They drift across
an empty sky
and dissipate,
as so do I.
To mountains, seas,
and deserts dry,
are not we measly
cumuli:
just barely born
before we die?