Friendly Chaos

Sometimes I stare at clouds passing by,
Not to find fantastic shapes of dragon,
Ship, or unicorn, but chaos clean
and undefined which forms a subtle crust
Upon my sharpest memories.  I wander,
Flying past cotton shreds, the strands so frayed
and tangled yet white and undefiled, so different
From the ghosts whose form I know too well.
This friendly jumble stacked and whitened by
The wind can wash my dreams and leave me sleeping
Undisturbed by patterns shaped less recklessly.

Bryan Ness
Published in Romeo's Barking Machine