Cloud glory

By | 1 June 2022

Grey swathes of salt bush
pulling at the wind,
the earth curves here
wide and empty as it is.
Small towns pinned like mistakes,
like smudges on red rocks.
The blunt hours and hours of the car,
the driving,
the engine.

Leaving is on repeat
over and over,
a fear
at the back
of my mind.

At the coast,
my sister tells me
the ocean has a memory.
It holds remembering
in its moving mass.

The slip of sand,
shells under my feet
and the bird that drifts on the wind,
just out of reach.

Here at the earth’s edge,
my sister tells me it’s alright
and we watch the clouds
as they lift our eyes up,
to the point
so far in the distance
it becomes something
I can hope for.

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