Cloud's Tears
Gabriel Duncan

Storm comes
sun leaves
cloud grows darker
hiding his set
with grey and black feathers
wind rushes
and useless water gushes
onto the green blades
standing sharply
below
stomach pitches
and wind catches
in my chest
cloud grows dark there, too
the inevitability
of falling water
touches my cheek
and runs off
with my sun
storm is here
almost
and the geese go to hide
but i am stuck
naked
without shelter
from rain
the sky humms
from bird's wings
seven-hundred and forty-seven feet long
wind howls, "north-ward"
to keep the bird
from flying south
but it leaves the same
cloud cries
sputtering rain
sputters
"it's just them,
and me,
again."