09 M Review
5 Poems by Rachel Jamison Webster

Hooded Clouds Untranslatable, Once


I ploughed through sky toward it

then after promise and partial consummation,

shadow purled with knots of sun

I flew back again, looking down on cobbles

of moisture, clods of mist in the heights.

I was flying!  I had always been

myself and never more

than gathering and dispersal,

ever motion, ever flux,

I have been burdened

by the very water that would make me real.

And all this time, I’ve had only one

thing to do: learn to love.

My vaulted mouth splits

as that air enters me.

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