Who are you， austere little cloud
drawn to this page， this sky in the dream
I'm having of meeting you here？
There should be a word that means "tiny sky."
Probably there is， in Japanese.
A verbal Polaroid of a Polaroid.
But you're the sky， not a cloud.
I'm the cloud. I gather and dissipate，
but you are always here.
Leave a message for me if you can.
Break a twig on the lilac， or toss
a few dried petals on the hood of my car.
May neither of us forsake the other.
The cloud persists in the darkness，
but the darkness does not persist.