Clouds: a poem

300 dpi Chuck Todd illustration of man's head lost in the Cloud; can be used with stories about whether or not the Cloud is all it is cracked up to be. Bay Area News Group 2012
krtnational national; krtworld world; krt; krtcampus campus; mctillustration; 01027000; ACE; ENT; internet; krtentertainment entertainment; 13022000; computer science; information technology; it; krtscience science; krtscitech; krttechcomputer computer; SCI; TEC; 04000000; 04003002; 04003005; 04003009; FIN; krtbusiness business; krtcomputersci computer science information technology it; krtintlbusiness; krtnamer north america; krttechnology technology; krtusbusiness; network; networking; software; u.s. us united states; wireless technology; backup plan; cc contributed todd bay area news group; storage; the cloud; 2012; krt2012

300 dpi Chuck Todd illustration of man’s head lost in the Cloud; can be used with stories about whether or not the Cloud is all it is cracked up to be. Bay Area News Group 2012

krtnational national; krtworld world; krt; krtcampus campus; mctillustration; 01027000; ACE; ENT; internet; krtentertainment entertainment; 13022000; computer science; information technology; it; krtscience science; krtscitech; krttechcomputer computer; SCI; TEC; 04000000; 04003002; 04003005; 04003009; FIN; krtbusiness business; krtcomputersci computer science information technology it; krtintlbusiness; krtnamer north america; krttechnology technology; krtusbusiness; network; networking; software; u.s. us united states; wireless technology; backup plan; cc contributed todd bay area news group; storage; the cloud; 2012; krt2012

(Bay Area News Group MCT2012)

BY ARIANA APOSTOL
Staff Writer
 
I am made of water vapor,
Gazing down at the world
From the top of the troposphere,
Unconcerned with my own existence,
Just doing my job.
 
There is no time for crises in the atmosphere,
And I am never asked to hide how I feel.
I absorb the nutrients of the earth,
Releasing them in pitter-patters on your rooftop
When I’m in a bad mood.
 
I have days of dark grey,
and days of marshmallow white.
I am a work of art.
People create shapes out of my malleable figure.
I float quietly across blue skies, indifferent to life on earth’s surface.
 
I hear whispers of the people below me:
Laughing, crying, praying, screaming.
New people arrive, old people disappear.
It seems like a complicated place;
Life is much simpler in the sky.