DRIFTED
We drifted like clouds – Into each other, then out; Pulled apart by currents from plumpness Into consistencies of cotton candy And little by little, night by night We drifted further each time and came together less. We could sometimes blend so well. I remember it. In time we came to inhabit different skies. It’s late now And the treetops sway in a hurricane wind. The sky is all clouds now as the rain begins falling And I sob softly to myself in the purpled sky – My rain becomes with all the rain As I think about how well I know We will never drift together again Even as her rain may yet be mixing with mine.
John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.
Flight of the dragonfly 