Clouds Poem by Edwina Reizer

Overhead I see the clouds
and know that they see me.
I sometimes wonder when I see them
how it feels to be so free?

Billowy shapes of cotton
that change within my sight
also tend to change my mood
when their movement hides sunlight.

I'm caught up seeing how they change
and always try to view
what object they remind me of
and where they travel to?

I must admit I also love
to see a cloudless day.
Then the clear blue picture of the sky
I wish could always stay.

But if there must be clouds overhead
then let them all be puffy white.
Then maybe I'll see those traveling clouds
in my dreams at night.