Clouds

Sometimes they get the best of me

These gray masses of clouds

That are marching

Across

What a little sky we have left

What little light

And I let them into my thoughts

To provoke and control

But why, when you sit by my side

With the same view

And ask, with a smile

How do they move so slowly?

Isn't if funny

The way the stumble through the light

And fall apart?