To the Reader: Polaroids

　　 by Chase Twichell

　　 Who are you， austere little cloud

　　 drawn to this page， this sky in the dream

　　 I'm having of meeting you here？

　　 There should be a word that means "tiny sky."

　　 Probably there is， in Japanese.

　　 A verbal Polaroid of a Polaroid.

　　 But you're the sky， not a cloud.

　　 I'm the cloud. I gather and dissipate，

　　 but you are always here.

　　 Leave a message for me if you can.

　　 Break a twig on the lilac， or toss

　　 a few dried petals on the hood of my car.

　　 May neither of us forsake the other.

　　 The cloud persists in the darkness，

　　 but the darkness does not persist.