The lingering cumulus clouds <br />imperceptibly changed their shapes <br />while I sat below discerning <br />these metamorphosed spectacles. <br />My imagination went wild <br />as they drifted across the sky. <br />It seemingly was like my mind <br />was orchestrating their transmuting. <br />I glanced at one that took the shape <br />of the poet Walt Whitman's head; <br />another like Sylvia Plath; <br />and yet another looked like Poe. <br />I glanced back at the Whitman cloud <br />but it changed into Erato. <br />I took my pad from my pocket <br />and began to write this poem.<br /><br />Albert Ahearn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-cloudy-imagination/
