Ashen gray clouds
hang low to the ground
a thick layer of fog
rising like dense smoke
infusing the atmosphere
with its petulant moods.
All I see is alabaster sky.
The moon has gone missing,
the sun hidden in a sempiternal stretch
of colorless stratus, dull like
a bolt of sparkly silver tulle
that has lost its shine.
And I am walking on broken clouds,
knee deep in ambivalence,
rain falling beneath my sodden feet
to the barren earth far below me.
And I thought I heard
the ocean siren call to me,
with her song of hollow promises
echoing against the crash of waves.
The seas have eluded me.
The skies have betrayed me.
The sun has ignored me.
The moon has shunned me.
The clouds have denounced me.
Where do I go now in this netherworld,
in this endless purgatory?
As twilight beckons, shades of indigo
dissipate the broken clouds.
The crescent moon glides by
with a shy smile and thin hopes,
as a vagabond wind transports me home,
an escalator to waiting distant stars.
Colleen Keller Breuning © 2022
January 13, 2022
This idea for this poem was sparked in the Atlanta airport on a recent trip to Florida. As we were walking through the terminal to make our connection, the current weather board sign caught my eye. It simply stated, “Broken Clouds,” and I immediately knew I would write about it. It stuck with me as I scribble scrabbled some words, listening to mood music on our final flight to Florida. It was very cloudy, foggy with a bit of rain and yes…. broken clouds everywhere.
Then this stayed dormant in my notebook due to work commitments, until I finalized it last night. It morphed into this mood piece, after two rainy, gloomy winter days of editing.
Funny how the writing process can be. It’s been a while since I wrote consistently due to travel, holidays and work. I feel out of practice and intend to get back into my weekly writing routine. It is a form of therapy, and I sure do miss it when I can’t find the time to write! Stay warm, everyone.