in a time when I was young,
once I plowed the skies,
two mighty star steeds,
pulled my ephemeral blade,
gouging the cirrus and cumulus,
the furrow from dawn to night,
the rich smell of their scent
an aphrodisiac of moisture,
an open cleft in the sparkling sky,
inviting, castigating my youth,
there were so many of them,
had I known that those clouds
would not last, would disappear,
I would have lingered in their vapors,
savoring them with my heart,
thus remembering their delicate passing.
©2012, Donald Harbour
enjoyed reading your poetry. You write with great depth.
Brilliant – evident expertise in every verse
Love the feeling within your closing lines, tender and ethereal. Great read, Donald, thank you.
you plough the clouds….I plough snow….anyways so well written as usual….thanks for sharing your words…and happy trails
Actually, I think this fits the prompt well too…I imagine either Apollo or Indra coursing through the skies, passing through clouds and inhaling the vapors. I like this.