This cloud

december mist3

This cloud hangs heavy for all,
but I feel the weight, damp and clammy,
the hand wrapped across my mouth, muffling the cry.

Who hears in this cold sea,
where drowning trees wave their arms,
shaking birds into the sky waters?

I listen but nobody comes
to ask the way or leave a note.
Crows make their show on the wires.

Day dims as it grows into midday,
through the falling rain into evening, the swollen time
when the sun should burn the clouds bonfire red

and the world give up
its ghosts to fly owl-winged
through the rustling dark.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “This cloud”

    1. Thank you! I was trying to get the mist which is really impressive but I think it was blocking the light because the photos came out duller than they ought as it was still bright. The sky did come out better in this one though.

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