A Titanic Cloud

A titanic cloud

in the shape of an angel’s corpse

provides respite from the sun

for a moment as I pass it

looking up from my car

from the motorway.

 

Falling between worlds,

the body is downward facing,

but floats on, for passing it

is passing a living moment.

Which is truer of a cloud:

its passing, or ours?

 

The colossal corpse

keeps within itself the sun

hidden in the guise of a moon.

Take it back, Shaheed-e-Azam;

why spoil us thus way?

 

This corpse allows man

to look right back in the eye

the great tyrant of the skies.

Something that without its death

We would dare not do.

 

But is it worth it?

Promethean cloud, what have you

died for? In holding the sun

you look shot-through and midday

has turned to twilight.

 

I dream vainly

of being a cloud-ruler,

for the titans are amongst the whole world

And yet, at once, nowhere on Earth.

I’ll drive on and this moment will pass.

Immaterial.

 

 

by Kishan Katira

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