The clouds dance and float across the blue,
Ever shifting shape, reflecting passer-bys.
An amalgamation of shapes on a barren flat,
To who owns the infinite blue?
The clouds of grey shroud the star’s glint,
Wisps break and fragmentize from the mass.
The strokes of color paint the sky’s personality,
A timeless trip of the planet’s life.
By Clay Patterson, Contributor
Patterson writes, “I’ve always had a knack for writing and the short and quick format of poems have allowed me to write without worrying too much about finishing a project. I’ve written short stories, but I feel more confident in my poems as they material was written with more belief and emotion behind it than the stories.”