I’m lying in my old white sundress
In a field of stiff grass
On my back, palms up
Towards the baby blue sky
And all its clouds

And it’s hot.
On this day the sun
Beats me down
Through my dress and the grass
But I don’t want to go anywhere

Seventeen clouds
Shifting
Transforming slowly

And one, bouncy
And big and white
Is shaped like my
Old kid bike
With tassels on the handlebars
For a second I close my eyes
And breathe
And feel a gust of wind
And when my eyes open
The cloud has been pushed
Leftward and is streaked
Quietly evaporating

Another
Moves along
Not as white
And pretty massive
The shape reminds me
Of a curled wave
Like the ones
I duck under
At the beach
It lingers for some time
And I feel the chill
Of its shadow
For a moment
As it passes
Above me

So then
Solid blue
For a minute
I anticipate
The next cloud
But it’s a plane
It breaks the silence
With a roar and echo
And so too arrives
Little lumps of cloud
Each wandering more quickly
Through the sky
Bumping into birds
Some dark edged
And some gleaming
Like my mother’s wedding ring

I close my eyes for a while now.
I’ve seen so many clouds today
Enough for a lifetime

I know when I’m sunburned
And I’m sunburned
But the grass is no longer stiff
And a quiet breeze soothes my skin
And I’m not going anywhere.
I’ll let anywhere come to me

Caroline Parkinson ’17