an old writer and his words

We imagine that they aredisappearing into the cloudsonly to reemergein a different place. Nothing could be furtherfrom the truth for they,these raptors flyingon monstroius wings,are shredding the cloudsripping free their fruit,eating of the sweetestparts, letting the restfall down on usas we scurry awayafraid of being soakedin their remnants.