Kit Carson

shining brilliantly through the clouds
comes the sun
beams
smoking up my dreams
damp, wet things
that need to dry out
and then comes the night
creeping up like a thief
early, late…
what’s the difference?
it’s all the same
as useless as fist banging at clouds
i feel no different
really, does it matter at all?
like always…you are gone
call you up in the night
after all is over
such as it is
i’ll never say goodbye to you
as useless as fist banging at clouds
~
clouds
cry
out loud
for me
for you
a sad story
if you believe
come with me
believe
it’s easier than fist banging at clouds
i believe in you…
no more fist banging at clouds
~
mjcarson
7-5-1975