In Memoriam: For Kathleen and Rosemary


On Bernal hilltop
looking up
a strong wind hits my face
but only a hint of cold.

Fog rolls in big clumps
passes towards the horizon
and then…
downing sun lights up the sky
highlights the tiniest finger of
gathered air.
It gathers there.
And then…a
tendril of wispy cloud
sails right towards me
longer it grows
longer longer still
right o’er my head.

I felt like it could touch me.
Awe I am…and then…
touched am I
by the feathered wing of an angel.

Note:  They both liked clouds.