Like changing clouds

It is not over, but the evening clouds
in sweeter shades of blood
make it bearable to have you not here.

Where you are, is the same light,
maybe you are watching
the same clouds, thinking of me.

Do you see how the face of that king
changes into the map of France now
and back to a face with no name.

There is no chance, how could we be together,
but we are together, even apart.
See how we move on like changing clouds
in denial of our hearts. In sweet colours.

Comments on: "Like changing clouds" (6)

  1. I love what you do with clouds here – both as simile and metaphor, and as a literal possibility that the two persons here might actually be looking at the same clouds at the same time. Nicely done!

    • Thank you Betty, I suppose I can do metaphors then. πŸ™‚ Simile, I will google that up! And there is the real possibility too, I see what you mean. Thank you for this wonderful comment! πŸ™‚

  2. I agree with Betty on this one.

    A beautiful reflective poem, although sad I think



  3. The first three lines are just lovely – ‘sweeter shades of blood’ is a fantastic line; so evocative of a brilliant sunset, but also, metaphorically (!) of pain and grieving for something lost. I really like the way you return at the end to ‘sweet colours’.

  4. Hi BH, thank you very much πŸ™‚ I love the evening and morning red skies, could watch them the whole day long, but they always go away too soon!

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