… My ever moving art gallery
My daily weather report
It matters not where I am
In the comfort of home
A car on the freeway
Among other drivers
The slow the speeders motorcycles
That startle as they roar
Past
My attention is out the
Window
My eyes on the sky
Clouds are like people
Like everything in the natural
World
Different shapes
Colors
Different purposes of existence
Exuding an aura of diversity
Like everything alive on earth
Diversity is life
As a child
I imagined myself lying down
On big white puffy comforter
Clouds
But never on those forecasting
Storms
Darkly ominous blankets of solid gray
Over my head
Then rushing across the sky
Pushed by erratic winds
Still drawing my eyes upwards
Always upwards
Nothing has changed
Clouds my ever moving art gallery
My daily weather report
Awake each morning
I open the shutters
Look through branches
Of the Sycamore Crepe Myrtle tress
To find the clouds
Only to discover now and then
The sun has risen on this day
Into a cloudless blue sky