FEATHER BRAINED

the clouds must
be feather brained
if they presume I cannot
stick my arms out
put my fingers
into them

clouds being
things writers, poets,
most focus, on,
can be said
to obsess about

but these clouds here
now
within my reach
I am currently dabbling in

are averse, starting
to build up animus
give me
shade

dark, bleak gray
ruggedly raucous looks
aimed
in my direction,
coming my way

Published by Damian Garside