The Aliens Poem by Thomas Rickarby
The Aliens
The clouds unfold across the day,
blocking out the sunlight.
A fleet of wyrd animals,
going nowhere in particular.
Sullen beasts that cannot speak,
giants of the sky.
They do not eat, they do not sleep,
they have no way to love.
When a poet pens a strangled lyric
clouds crowd out the page.
And when a person fails to talk
they've clouds caught in their throat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 5:11:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
