Thank God, they cannot cut down the clouds!
—Thoreau
The clouds are not cotton batting in the jewel case of the stars.
The clouds are not swimmers in the stratosphere.
The clouds are not the sledges of the gods.
The clouds are not charging dragons
_____or sharks with open jaws.
The clouds are not harbingers or symbols.
The clouds are not old dreams of Turner.
The clouds are not children shrieking Marco! Polo!
The clouds are not drones hovering above impoverished villages.
The clouds are not the braille of angels.
That one is not a baboon turning into a crab.
The clouds are not airships
_____though they may resemble the petitions of illiterate sailors.
The clouds are not striving or competitive.
That one is not shaped like a penis,
_____or not for long, anyway.
The clouds are not endangered. Or invasive.
The clouds are not the longing of refugees in cages
_____or camps, though clouds may be the only beauty visible there.
The clouds are not doodles of the dead.
They’re our single stream of tears recycled
_____and reincarnated fields of snow.
They are not translatable.
They can not stay.
