That we are clouds,
thwarted, driven,
parted by the wind
fills me
with doubt.
I am no cloud,
nor are you.
Let us be simple:
let the clouds
do their work;
while we
encumbered
as we sometimes are
with wetness, darkness,
drift our‑
selves skyward
with storms so wild
that all clouds ache
and part
as we fly
to that moon
which lets us keep
our simple flight.