Bookstore Poem #120. I can see what’s in the cloud; making it rain is a different matter

Green Lake branch, Seattle Public Library.  

A blank space stares at me
from where I expect to see a face

The face is not necessarily hers
my fantasies are not made for soothing

Nor are my drawing skills
developed enough to fill in detail

So her face stays a vague idea
in the thoughts of a fantasy lacking form

Fortunately
memory does not rely on clouds

(8 February 2018)