Posts Tagged ‘clouds’

Prose Poem #3

Kew Gardens

The flowers are orchids and the clouds look like unruly children chasing each other across the blank lawn of the sky. The real children behave, sitting neatly on benches eating crisps, not spilling or crying. I traipse through the Japanese garden just to feel further displacement, the way the Ginko trees must feel in this foreign clime: rain, rain, rain, then today, suddenly, sun. Even the bonsai tree, trimmed to resemble a crane balanced on one leg, appears surprised, as if caught in the act of escape. How can you feel further from me here, where all distance is relative? In five days I will kiss you again, press my lips to your collar bone and cry. But for now this melancholy feels like a variety of weather. A cactus in a greenhouse in a garden in a suburb of London. Does that describe me? I lie on the grass, memorizing the relationship between bough, blue, cloud. The students circle around me. I want to stay here all day, I declare. I want to move here. I could live just beneath this tree, forlorn children sharing their neglected sandwiches with me, getting to know the peacocks and their unique brand of disdain. How can I miss you, the arid mountains, pine trees, bright, painful sunshine and almost miss here, too, this place where I am? The clouds saunter past.

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