Frank Prem

A Poem a Day in October 2016: #26

he caught the cloud
that flew too low
turned it around
and sent it out that way

he paused the wind
by holding his hands
before his eyes
then reached out
to turn it aside that way

he bent down low
his eye reflected
in the pond
smoothed each wrinkle
with a hand
that swept away

the fish and he
knew the flow undisturbed
though tempest raged
and that nothing need tremble
when it knew the way

© Frank Prem, 2016

Poem #27: way poem #3: to a higher place

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