Sonnet 2.VI - Cloud Kisses

A sonnet on noticing the clouds, written in Spenserian rhyme scheme

As I drive, mind light and free, I do see
   clouds again. (It’s not that they’ve not been
   there. It’s just that I’ve been very busy,
   my head in books as teacher and student
and my hands helping the adolescent
   population in my home, in my class.)
   Anyway, in the rich blue firmament
   white brush strokes scatter across the canvas:
fan strokes, stippling, precise lines, strokes en masse
   and varied. They form cotton-bally shapes
   with grey under and bright white on top as
   sun shines down, and some are small wispy scrapes,
or wide, feathery angel’s wings. I’ve missed
   tilting my face and, by these, being kissed.

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