Drifts

The cloud creates itself
Of its own self-sustenance, 
but still down unknown pathways
it drifts only to find other skies.

Now blotting out the sun
It grasps and consumes.
The same old ritual of building
And gliding.










While someone below remarked
How remarkable it was,
Etched in red and gray,
His ability to feed his own demise.
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Filed under cloud, drifting, drifts, poem, poetry, self-destruction

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