Richard Allen Taylor

CLOUD POEM NO. 45,678

As if we needed another one,
but you should see this solitary
white shark, fins and all, cruising
the reefs of a dry blue April sky,
having eaten or scared away
all the smaller clouds, and still hungry,
reminding me of the fish in your aquarium
and how he depends on you for those

sprinkles of love and nutrition that keep him
alive and well, by fish standards, which, for the moment, seem
to apply to you and me. But the significance of that
begins to evaporate

as the cloud shifts into the shape of a lone
goose, its companionable V nowhere in sight.

—from Rattle #24, Winter 2005