I was on a quite long (over 5 minutes) train journey today. I had time to read my Kindle, play games on my phone, listen to my favorite music, email, text, watch Minions. Whatever.
So what did you do?
I looked at, and watched, clouds.
Clouds are brilliant. They change all the time. Sometimes they’re white. Sometimes they’re black. No PC culture with clouds. Hell, they might be gay for all I know.
I can’t possibly say anything new about clouds. Turner painted them. Wordsworth wrote about them. Songs have mentioned them or been written about them – John Lennon, Kate Bush, The Orb, Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Rolling Stones to mention but a few.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
No you bloody didn’t. There’s loads of them.
So, I thought, what could I possibly, as a writer and sometimes poet, contribute to the topic of clouds?
Simple. A poem.
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