Portrait of a reply

…And I was gazing at the brushstrokes of clouds

Someone touched upon my eye, when you drove by,

Clothed it seemed, in that sight, wrapped

In clouds, leaning forward squinting in sunlight

At what? Just the wheel of your car, or my love afar,

And I love you, too, streaked thru a painting

You gunning forward in your way, where shadows

Burst in my heart, and clouds part….And there, just

Left at that – hung on my wall today; your reply