In a remote run-down section of the sky, dwells a family of flimsy clouds that
Never makes it to the horizon. They watched the nightly Western, in technicolor
Like tourists A-top the Empire State. The kids play hopscotch until the Sun is
Up and then go back to their boring life of floating around casting shadows.
One day a flock of soggy clouds drifted in over the horizon. Obviously lost, and
Leaking water, they asked the way to the moon. It was only noon, much too
Early for the moon. They were invited to play and they stayed, casting shade
Together in all kinds of weather. In late summer they all took blew off for the moon.
Your imagination takes flight again, boundless fun. Thanks for writing and sharing your work -- a break in the day I look forward to every week.