in some of john constable's pictures I can only
ever see clouds the way as though they could
move they hang motionless over the meadows

of salisbury. then the light falls then the mood
changes it's briefly banished beneath
the clouds: effects of light on the mood

are something I'm only too well aware of. I've been
looking at clouds half the day today the way they
were forming changing passing over white and with

threatening dark edges and was lying still as a landscape.
a few evenings ago it seemed to me as though
there was a blue cloud in the sky I called you and

wanted to show you you came outside and saw it
clearly: over the city a blanket of cloud through which
we could briefly see something else, something bright.

translated by Catherine Hales