Who are you， austere little cloud

    drawn to this page， this sky in the dream

    I'm having of meeting you here？

    There should be a word that means "tiny sky."

    Probably there is， in Japanese.

    A verbal Polaroid of a Polaroid.

    But you're the sky， not a cloud.

    I'm the cloud. I gather and dissipate，

    but you are always here.

    Leave a message for me if you can.

    Break a twig on the lilac， or toss

    a few dried petals on the hood of my car.

    May neither of us forsake the other.

    The cloud persists in the darkness，

    but the darkness does not persist.