Not a whole cloud in the sky
but a swiggle in the west
makes me smile, a grace note:
wind at work, but here at rest.

All day the wind has carried
silver-centered clouds
beyond the trees. Other places
broil, or sheltered underneath

the moisture in the air, bask
in the sun’s warmth, pushing
storms like death across
the oceans, weapons into peace.

Is balancing our terror with relief
reason caught in space? I’m in awe
of all this power, sun cast
shadows on Earth’s face.