This white cloud

Photo by Annie Jiao on Unsplash

If you happen to feel
that yours has gone down
further, than you can bare

I assure you that mine was there first
I’ve been watching you
and the others
floating up there
blind, bloated
and silently screaming
to be held

I would hold you
sometimes it’s all that I want
while I sit here
between the rocks and the fire

I still see that white cloud
it’s like ice
creeping ever closer
it dies off with the sun

My head raises
from the page
and it’s here
once again
ever closer

Most days I see you all
from my ridge
until dawn
I’ll hold you
between my fingers
and try not to fall

JJ Aitken 2022