11 – A Little Cloud Song

Distressed at my presence,
the osprey chirps loudly,
her call echoed across
the silent marsh feels sharp
and pointed at me as I pass,
so I sing into the breeze
whisper a good ujjayi breath
the sound of the sea
in my throat





as if I am nothing
but a distant wave,
a southern wind,
a passing cloud…

How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue



With a deep and grateful bow to A.A. Milne. Photo and Poem ©2018, Jen Payne. National Poetry Month 2018, #11. If you like this poem, then pick up a copy of my new book EVIDENCE OF FLOSSING: WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND today! CLICK HERE

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