Dreck

clouds scudding
               clouds lowering        
                              clouds hovering            
I look at them and laugh
so happy so carefree      

My love is a cloud,
a will-o'wisp        
               a tendril      
                              a thought  

gossamer and ephemeral  

vanishing as the ripples across a quiet pond
      
what is beneath the surface        
                              what is roiling under      

turbulence      
               and terminal decay      
the sludge carries His mind away,

that dreg      
and oft the dreck