Cloud Colored

You’d have to be a ghost,
Wouldn’t you? Nobody

Alive has skin color
Like the color of clouds,

Those glowing white light heaps,
Those feathery grey-blues,

Heavy, mineral greys,
And night greys with lightning.

Someone should keep an eye
On you, except you move

Like clouds do, a presence
Over here shows up there,

Not even the same shape,
Hard to say the same you.

Do you have a message,
Or would it just be best

To try to ignore you?
Why won’t you try a sign?

Oh, now you’re snow again.
And now you’re nearly blue.