The cloud is a prisoner.
The sky holds; contains it.
Who wonders at all
that people can see any
and everything in a cloud?
Who on earth has ever said,
“Look at that sky so full of itself!”
Maybe you have heard as I have,
when it is a particularly pretty day,
“The sky is so cloudless.”
I don’t know which is worse,
to be gazed at and assigned all possibility
or to be seen, quick, clear through,
for what you lack.