Tag Archives: clouds



My boots were muddy
from our walk in the woods
and my hands were cold
on that February afternoon
bright with cumulus clouds
demanding their share of the sky
and below their gaze
we stood face to face
with bashful smiles
and you took my hands
in yours and refused to let me
burrow under your layers
to get to your warm belly
which was beginning to laugh
at how good it was
to be alive in that moment
and then you kissed me
and drove me to your house
where you made a real fire
and together we made one too
and the weight of nothing but you
was upon me and I have never
been so naked or felt so clean.







Painting by A.J. Casson, “Algoma” 1929


Where I Am


I know something
you don’t know
about the darkness
that covered our yesterday.
It wasn’t the sky
that forgot to shine
or the inconsiderate clouds
that hovered so close
we could walk into
and through
their gossamer hearts—
it was an accumulation
of emptiness
you have filled me with—
finally spilling out
onto the walls and the
ceiling and the floor—
which is where
I find myself so often
these days—
trying to stand—
trying to reach the door.




Painting by T.C. Steele


Moon Poem

bright ball
of borrowed light,
(light which you
charmed away
from the sleeping sun)
you are not
a secondary glow
as Genesis claims
in that first chapter,
but that great
irreplaceable star
of the night-
It’s you
who we wait for.

Most nights,
you’re not quite sure
of yourself
and you only
half smile
or pull the clouds tight
around you
becomes you,
But when you decide
to become
fully who you are,
the whole world stops
and stares.


DeMaris Gaunt


Words and Rules

I began to speak,
and heard myself say,
“there are no words”
before I went on
to describe the way
the clouds appeared to sit
on an invisible shelf
in the sky above Cape Cod
as if each of them
had their lower half sliced off
and the flat bottom
painted dark blue
to mirror the calm Atlantic.
But that wasn’t what
I meant or what I felt,
and it happened to not
be true, because there
were words to describe
the way the clouds appeared
in the sky above Cape Cod.
What I wanted to say—
what I meant to say—
what I couldn’t say
to my companions—
was that there are no words
to describe the way
I wanted to find you
under that sky:
Whole and real
and mirroring everything
I ever wanted to tell you.

DeMaris Gaunt

At the Airport

At the Airport

The eastern sky

is clearly on its best behavior,

but like a smiling child

holding some precious breakable thing

behind his back,

the western horizon

has conjured a few white clouds

to conceal the single dark one

floating solo,

taking its time

deciding what it wants to become.

Like a large black period

it punctuates the calm indifferent ocean of air,

making a statement

that doesn’t require my approval.


I’ve never worried about the sky

or second guessed its ability

to hold up its sun,

enormous, floating,

destine to shine—

billions of years of practice

making perfect

the grand choreography of stars and moons,

the effortless way they avoid collision

with an audacity so large

I would send my own young son

into that sky,

smiling, breakable,

destine to shine.



DeMaris Gaunt