CloudPillows - Poetry

STORM

A line of gibbous deckchairsEmptied by a storm,Flappering accompaniment,While white gullsSquawk and swarm.

MOMENTS

Moments,Like snowflakesEnclosed in the hand,DriftAcross my mind . . .

BREATH OF HEAVEN

How gently we are born upon the wind of change,That mighty stormReaching us as barely a whisper,How softly we are carriedFrom moment to momentWith scarcely a hair to rearrange.