Morgan
Mood
Lovely new good mood
you visit me like a floppy cloud
filled with warm rain
blown to land's end
and half-way back:
tumulus of cumulus, off lit.
Squarish in my mind you sit
unpeeled like an orange:
gold suffusing blue,
vanishing, twinkling into view
like a chunk of dry ice
subliming by your own rules.
New and presently blue
you leap for the sun like Pegasus
yet bit by bit, you too,
will go, that I know is true,
for no one can hold you
when your cords undo,
and off you'll go like a helium balloon
to the moon, to whom your elated
to be distantly related.
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