Place of the Hole in the Clouds

Place of the Hole in the Clouds

Is what they used to call part of this place

Back before colonization

And what we foolishly call civilization

When camas meadows spread inward from the shore

Uninterrupted by asphalt, all of us and more

When the aural landscape was a symphony

Of wind and wave

Instead of cars and people’s electronic chatter

 

Place of the Hole in the Clouds

 

This appellation still holds true

Now called Fairfield, its space above

Is still a pivot point for clouds

And from my not too distant hill

Shafts of blue and golden hue

Split the gray curtain of the storm

Opening a window into heaven’s face

And if I look with second sight

What wonders I will see!

But as I’m focusing my gaze

Clouds close in, my vision fades

Now it’s just an ordinary day

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2012

 

 

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