Where is the warm cloud?
The chair exits like impulse.
Wings go like paintings.
Why does the chair leave?
Spirit, mind, and image.
Why does the face exit?
All wings foresee, ladders.
Ladders behold painting.
Winds stand!
Hole, space, and figure.
Why does the ladder exit?
Sail swiftly like a warm wave.
All sidewalks grab rainy, dry slums.
Impulse, instinct, and place.
----
1415775
mindyourpoem.com