Clouds

Cumulus People

Their heads in the clouds.

I watch them,

witness them

on streets,

benches,

trains.

They seem to float,

their eyes compelled

to stare into

cell phone screens,

soaking up dopamine

like hummingbirds

hovering above nectar.

Their moods contemplative,

wandering

from here to there.

Wandering down streets

in meditative excursions,

meandering

above the ground.

They roam like clouds,

seemingly unaware

of buildings,

of traffic.

Until they’ve slipped by

out of sight,

replaced

by other clouds.

Reviews

[emipoemi]

Man, am I glad to read this! Such a breath of fresh air after the atrocities I've been seeing the past half-decade masquerading as poetry. But this!? No mask here. These stanzas are clouds, these line breaks the breathy crevices between the atmospheric puffs that float on by. The message cliché but rendered personal and boldly profound and one of the better presentations (and representations) of this societal descent into oblivion. We're all shadows, glimpses on the brink of a blink that dissipate at second glance. Then replaced. Well done!

[Relic]

Great comment! Thank you, emipoemi.

[emipoemi]

my pleasure.