Too Many Clouds

Too Many Clouds

They flood the sky
With their gracelessness
Like fat, white crocodiles
They swallow up the sun
And cry cold tears
On hot streets.
They loom in the distance;
Deceptive marshmallow fluff
Obscuring happiness,
Turning blue to grey
And glowing faces
Into dark shadows.
They take up all the space
Like black balloons:
I find them suffocating,
Cannot stand their opulence,
Their cold and calculated creeping.

They bruised the windows
Of my springtime
And left me bored and vacant
In the damp, white air.