An ornament 
something seasonal 
is what 
you have 
now become 
taken out 
dressed up
and viewed
your time 
is limited 
to when 
and after 
back you 
go into 
box and 
under bed 
forgotten until 
next year 
this you
have wanted 
whereas I 
had hoped 
for something 
other more 
like fixture 
than fantasy 

I only 
imagined this 
when that
happened and 
this then 
became my 
new someday 
but even 
then this 
I never 
ever expected 
for this 
back then 
was my
freedom unimaginable 

And clouds hang
above the mountains
looking like petulant 
children about to 
hold their breath 
pink now red 
and purple too
as strong winds
push them aside 
like a dealer
clearing a table 
of its cards
and once gone 
the light blue 
kisses dark peaks
like a mother 
smooches her child 
who is headed 
out the door 

I want 
for little 
having already 
had most 
and this 
now this 
is enough 
there is
something sacred 
in enough 
a peace 
comes along 
a quiet 
lapping of
rolling waves 
delicately upon 
the shore 
I am 
tickling me

And clouds 
earlier invisible 
begin appearing 
like ships
quietly creeping 
through fog
making dock
though these
clouds remain 
in sky
mooring to 
the heavens