Sweet clouds
Are born above my head
Not dark
Like a jinx’s
Nor blessed
Like a god,
But soft like
The warmth of
A mother’s womb
Sixty years
After the fact,
Floating in some
Lazy competition
To the flow of water
And the naked feet,
Twisting to get
The kinks out
As kids splash
In the local pool
The civilized brain
Yelling
“Behave! Behave!”
Too much Freud
For my own damned good
I want to be a loud
Laughing idly
At the idiocy
Of adult life
I want to be a cloud
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