Mare’s tails, those high wispy cirrus clouds remind me of the
Joni Mitchell song …
bows and flows of angel hair
and when cumulus clouds, as puffy as popcorn
ice cream castles in the air
bubble up and boil over like a pot of pasta …
(I’ve looked at clouds that way)
I could tell we were going to get more than just a sprinkling … of parmesan!
The layer of stratus —
a most moist tiramisu —
would drench us with it’s dark espresso !
Oh, how I tried to consult the big, blue
menu chart in the sky,
but clouds got in the way.
I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
and still somehow
it’s cloud illusions I recall
I really don’t know clouds at all.
Now, where did I put that