Clouds go carousing past me
view a distant patter of rains,
for while cotton spirals I see
you see the cumulus strains.

In the place breeze hovering
faint zephyr is rustling trees,
holds my cheek clamouring
reaches both, instant seize.

And the leaves past tussle
upon basalt skies left torn,
lies within depths of rustle
patterns once steps worn.

By day's end stars do dart
another frame set to view,
in hemispheres find apart
patterns upon skies, you.