Blackened balls of confetti thrown against a slate sky

From left, from right, lines and angles they fly

Boiling clouds shuffle, sculp then conform

In kaleidoscopic monochrome; is this the start of a storm?

The mass absorbs and swells like translucent dough

An invisible baker, kneads, stretches and throws

And the amorphous miasma continues to grow

As eyes in wonderment gaz...

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