I saw

Different types and colors and shades of clouds all pasted together in the sky like a poorly made collage
Fogs and swirls and cumulous
All different styles
Sketches and watercolors and magazine photographs
dramatic oil painting clouds at home in a windswept sea storm scape
And bits of blue sky torn out then glued on
With rough white ripped edges still there

Twisters of dust reaching up to the top
            Strings holding the clouds
to the mountains
to the brown grass ground

(the flambulated owl goes boo-boot)

If I could organize the sky
If I could legislate the clouds
I would make a rule for only one artist a day
            No halfdone collages
No last minute work
No blank spots where nothing peeks through

Perfect perfection and order and law
Wispy clouds on wispy days
Fluffy clouds on fluffy days
Thunder and lightning for dramatic effect

But I can’t
So on those unruly scattered cloud days

I just close my eyes
and don’t look at the sky

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