EPISODE · Oct 31, 2021 · 1 MIN
Clouds Roll In
from #AncientTexan · host #AncientTexan
The clouds roll in Usually soft fuzzy ones That do no harm As Thoughts push through them Almost unabated. But when the gray clouds come Words get stuck in them Names of old friends My daughter’s phone number 864-430-7118 That suddenly returns in the middle of this poem. And names of women I have loved fade And only their image remains And sometimes fear pops up And must be cleared For my dad’s middle name to return. At times my wife forgets what happened And somehow it makes me feel superior that I recall what she forgot Testimony that there are no clouds And sometimes in the distance I can see dark clouds That smother out the life And leave one wondering If I will know that they have come to stay. The boundary of my being Once called bags of water by make-believe aliens on Star Trek grows weaker Fading imperceptibly Conceiving clouds as metaphors today Perhaps completely lost tomorrow the meaning of the collection of words And perhaps even the symbols Cluttering a white surface No longer called a page When the rain begins to fall. Roe October 2021
What this episode covers
The clouds roll in Usually soft fuzzy ones That do no harm As Thoughts push through them Almost unabated. But when the gray clouds come Words get stuck in them Names of old friends My daughter’s phone number 864-430-7118 That suddenly returns in the middle of this poem. And names of women I have loved fade And only their image remains And sometimes fear pops up And must be cleared For my dad’s middle name to return. At times my wife forgets what happened And somehow it makes me feel superior that I recall what she forgot Testimony that there are no clouds And sometimes in the distance I can see dark clouds That smother out the life And leave one wondering If I will know that they have come to stay. The boundary of my being Once called bags of water by make-believe aliens on Star Trek grows weaker Fading imperceptibly Conceiving clouds as metaphors today Perhaps completely lost tomorrow the meaning of the collection of words And perhaps even the symbols Cluttering a white surface No longer called a page When the rain begins to fall. Roe October 2021
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Clouds Roll In
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