White Notes
White clouds traverse
the sky, moving slowly
as if they were white notes
sliding along the pavement
under a light morning breeze.
Notes to and from lovers
that tell of longing
and leave the taste
of missing you in the spaces
between creases. They'll fold
when they reach the end of the road,
pass beyond the horizon
to drop away from the life
of here and now leaving blue
as a reminder
of what might have been.
1 comment:
And as I love to fly among those white notes, I can tell you that one of the neatest things, is that no two notes are the same.
As I pass along, travelling much further than the visible horizon to someone on the ground, there is always that magical excitement and variety of those notes.
Your poems are getting to me, more and more, have you noticed that? I get a tingle when I check in and see you've posted a new one, keep it up!!
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