Clouds, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Church Frederic-Twilight in the wilderness 1860

Frederic Church, Twilight in the Wilderness (1860)

 

Clouds, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Clouds of many shades of gray rushing by,
To neither church nor meeting do they fly.
They look so sad wonder if soon they’ll cry.
Should I care if they cover my blue sky?

Peering seeing faces that I once knew,
Passing silently by, all in a queue.
Why at this moment I have not a clue,
Are they all with thoughts attempting to spew?

First lightening then the thunder did come.
Then heavy down pouring of tears from some.
Wet by their many tears, I stood there numb,
Do they portend of what I may become?

Warnings of life every day we receive,
The challenge remains of which to believe.

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