Mito M. Boy

I am crucified on my deck

I am crucified on my deck,
arms outstretched,
toes to the west,
watching the mothership of a grey cloud
pass overhead.

I want it to surrender,
to fall and blanket me.
I want the cool grey air
to descend as it would into a valley
Hiding me, protecting me.
A shroud of cloud.

But instead, it drifts
across the sky
in ever shifting patterns.
A loose shiftless layer of smoke
between the blue far above
and my little house below.

Instead I am left behind--
the cloud sailed by,
revealing the bright sun.
I shut my eyes
and the heat nailed me back
against the deck.