Pretend C L O U D
by Z. B. McClure
I saw a cloud the shape of moon,
among the clouds it hid.
I was, at first, decieved until
that cloud, the others shed.
Then standing by, this cloud exposed,
so perfect round, and white
was seen for what it truly is:
such a breathtaking sight.
Against the pale, calm blue sky,
it stayed , afixed by glue.
Sometimes, I think I am that moon;
Sometimes, I truly, do.
Copyright 2015 Zach B McClure All Rights Reserved