forgotten skies cry for tomorrow’s clouds.
wings can’t help me fly into yesterday.

so i fold yesterday’s thoughts into neat little squares
and tuck them away in my patchwork pocket.
they live in darkness seeking light.
they desire to unfold into wings, big black wings,
strong black wings gathering energy.

but the thoughts remain folded,
inside lint filled pockets,
tossing around with life’s necessities.

© zaji, 2016