Is there permanence to this cloud

Is there permanence to this cloud

Its adherence to the sky

As if pasted in position

By an artistic infant

Creating a diorama

For a school project

Using cotton wool balls

From mum’s dressing table

Make-up removal

As much an art form

As its application

Your face in the mirror

Nakedly vulnerable

I could have watched you

Massage away the strain of the day

Forever

Does this cloud follow

Will it ever dissipate

As days pass by

In accelerated repetition

There is an inevitably

About their progression

Perhaps I am bound

To journey

In concert with the weight

Of this damp blanket

Pressing down

For lack of any Puckish

Misdirection

There is no upside

To the gravity of any causal

Correlation

Between emotion

And the power of the wind

It barely registers

A mention

On the Beaufort scale

What narrow confines

Channel my reveries

Lightly blown navel-gazing

Is as common a continuance

As to be found

In any privileged

Englishman’s pointless bitching

About the uncertain nature

Of the weather

And its impact on the Roses.