Elusive clouds sit on the horizon
and drift on a wayward course.
Their wisps retain their greed
to meet with their familiars in the foreign lands of the east.
They choose not to let down
their shimmering showers
over the great sea of a lea
and saunter onward to the gobbling lands of the east.
Their lucid actions infect,
creating lurid fantasies
in exhausted grasses,
only to disregard and proceed to those wretched lands of the east.
