Cirrus

november skies 007

A high west wind
shreds and feathers
the white gauze of cirrus clouds
in rarified mesosphere echoes
from space.

An invisible hand pulls
icicles
like so much spun sugar
of celestial confectionary
against a sky
of melted forget-me-nots
in high summer sun
which shimmers on the blades
and heads of
rollicking
cabbage tree leaves.

 

2 thoughts on “Cirrus

  1. I loved the ‘rollicking cabbage tree leaves’, rollicking seems such a neglected word and so well used here. As Dean says, an ‘abstract’ canvas, but with humour.

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