Poem #8

The clouds are calling out to each other overhead,
anger flashing between them,
and the remnents of their words coming down to us in a cacaphony.

Sometimes I wonder about what they must be arguing about,
or if some of it is just a show of force to those of us on the ground.
Reasons for us to not taunt those beyond our understanding,
and so far up above our heads.

They must have really high opinions of themselves,
or they wouldn’t be so loud when they choose to be.
I think they like the attention that a bright light or a loud boom gets them.

Or maybe they’re just lonely up there,
and want to be seen again,
since cloudwatching has become such a lost pastime lately.
They miss the admiring eyes of those on the ground looking up,
and seeing amazing shapes and creatures in their midst.

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