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CLOUD AND LINEN by Ramey Channell
WELL DONE! Poetry
CLOUD AND LINEN by Ramey Channell
We were hydrangeas
living blue for water.
We were angels; our faces
shattered sunlight into halos.
We were suns too bright
and moons too pale
to fill the tragic universe of time,
and left lonely by day
and lonely by night,
we danced, not joyfully
but like drifting flowers
on a shoreless sea.
We were cloud and linen.
We were flightless birds, drowning,
whose dreams were mists of half remembered flight.
How did we even breathe?
Or did we ever breathe?
I can’t remember breathing.
We were resplendent microscopic fruit,
as seasons turned
and traveled on without us.
We were too frail to follow seasons
as they flew away
and left us, abandoned under trees.
We were melancholy strains of music.
Our hands were always empty,
and we always thought
somehow we’d find a way
to fill our empty hands, with dreams,
with sky, with all that we had lost.
Hydrangeas in summer
dancing under water,
we yearned for air.
I remember now:
we were flightless birds
with half remembered dreams of flight.
I don’t know what we were.
We were cloud and linen.
We were sand and clay and grass in summer;
we were ice and broken trees in winter.
There was only one frozen winter,
but there were many, many summers
of hydrangeas
fragile
living blue for water.