Poem. When the Clouds Begin Crying. Bruce Kilarski.

When the Clouds Begin Crying. Bruce Kilarski. When I was a boy The cornfields would calm me, The cat fish would swim circles Whenever I roamed. Down high dusty roads I’d sing in my footsteps, No more than a day dream Away from my home. My Pa planted colors That would laugh in the sunlight, … Continue reading Poem. When the Clouds Begin Crying. Bruce Kilarski.