Cumulus

See what the wind does to you.
Breaks you. Stretches you like dough.
Makes you beautiful.

See what the sun does to you.
Burns you. Shines through you.
Shadows you. Lifts your sides.

Shapes you, scars you. Lets you die.
Your tufted ridges, your
hair-fingers, your depth.

Your round mountains, your
white secrets, your unarmed fists
your smoky towers.

Dying butterflies decry
your one color outshines them
and half as long.