Shallow Clouds
The eyes skylarked
through the moderate climate,
the smoke vertiginously suspended
in the kneeling atmosphere
There is a redolent breeze
known to the famished
and thirsty for grandiosity -
A stropped poignancy
To the puny and fragile
the dust mote's dance is no different
from the foreboding wolves
howling for the sky's thunders
I wonder why some things
can never be fortified
by the mangles of iron and fire -
faint and naked, always defeated?
If the mountain range would lay
and the clouds would descend
to unveil the broad horizon
will I finally find your grace?
Are the promises buried
in squalid colors veritable?
Is your variety existent
or but a taste of hope?
My savor is waned, senses
are disembogued and crashed:
hope once,
and suffer for life
In the smoke of the cigarette
and the shabby calm
docked upon its shallow clouds
the dusk would finally succumb.
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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