I was walking across the river to the library this evening. The clouds above brought to mind the opening credits of the Simpsons, except these clouds were near-menacing grey instead of puffy white. I stood high on the bridge, listening to the water rushing below.

I thought I'd write about it.

dirty cottonballs haiku

           dirty cottonballs

       billowing the sky above

           carolina blue



       on a footbridge high

           arcs of concrete and braided steel

     clouds are closer now



      water melodies

   dancing over rocks below

lockstep with the clouds