Clouds

The last rays of sunlight slowly sliding by,

We witness the crowns way up on high.

Nodding, waving goodbye to the day

Funny faces we’ve seen, some, maybe not.

Dogs cows and bears abound.

And we observe the lot.

So soon to be devoured, by the advent of night.

Grey slivers hanging on, avoiding the fight.

Ink stains, all that remains are in sight.

Trees pulling the blanket of night air about them.

Talking and laughing far from our stare.

We’re not a part of this friendly fare.

Too soon will be morning, with its frosty cold start.

And under the clouds for when they do part.

Will-o the wisps so flighty and stark.

John J McCarrick