They call them horsetail clouds
But they look more like embryos
like fetuses some just being born
They are from the next century
So they gambol and trot about
Imitating their forefathers
Not yet human bodies but gathering
Enough light to live inside one
At night they turn gray and dismal
As ponies far out among stars
Wispy they curl their determination
Into the forms their coming loves will take
To push the world forward further
Steadily turning it inch by inch
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