Clouds

August 23, 2020
(For Petey)

I watched the clouds all day
That day
The day you died

I sat outside
While
Lucy, just five, scootered in the driveway,
And Mike, he mourned with music
That poured from open windows

I gazed, craned my neck
Upward
Onward
Witnessing the clouds
Seeking…

They shift like grief does 
And the other shapes of love
Ebb and flow, transform and reform;
Heavy sometimes, or feather-light
Ominously present, or barely there 
But there

Always.
And never
the same.