That is that

to count the clouds that
carry tears disguised as
rain, you must point
at them and name them
according to the shape
they chose to take.
that is a dancing dragon,
that is a shepherd listening to his cattle
gossip, that, I don’t know what that is,
that is a man smiling at my girl,
isn’t that a lion shapeshifting
into the likeness of my cat.
and that, that, my friend
is where we always lose count–
when the clouds take the shape of our grief.

Younglan Talyoung