up high in the sky

where birds come to fly 

two clouds that sit perfectly on time 

with the air that comes rounding thinner 

white fluff that twirls like sand 

Clouds

Poke a bear and it will chase you up a tree

Charging to their own paths

Mightier than rooted grass

So, we rise into the sky 

The clouds, they

Whip my cheeks 

With their surprising iciness

Turning them raw and rosy.

My nose is running,

But that sickeningly pleasant

Last night,

I dreamed of the clouds.

They looked so magical, all up so high.

Suddenly I was there,

with them.

It was cold- freezing, even.

And the water from the clouds on myself was freezing.

There is nothing below my feet as I rise off the ground. 

Looking up I slowly come closer to the endless blue sky.

My eyes burn, as the sun comes closer, burning me.

When you look out the window of a plane

you see possibility

you see hopes and dreams in the clouds' forms

soft and fluffy

there,

but not quite there

near,

but so far away