The thing I love about clouds is,

You can see a face in the sky,

And hurry to find your camera to click it,

And look back up, and it's gone,

Or it has changed from a smiling angel

To a demon fraught with horns.

White clouds gather and talk around the water cooler,

And before long, they've frenzied 

Themselves dark with gossip.

They rain on someone's innocent parade.

The wind blows them away,

And now a baby elephant glides in tow,

Its trunk holding hands with the tail 

Of a colossal sea horse that's adopted it.

The sky is my parade,

And no one can rain on it.

The rain itself is my confetti ticker tape.

I wave to you, prom queen style,

And hope you'll be waiting for me

After the charade,

Even if it's raining.

But things change,

So if they do,

Wait for me anyway, in the sun.

-jenn