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Three Puffy Clouds
They are the ones who can hide the sun. I am the one wishing for a sunny day. Three puffy clouds white as a tissue and puffy as cotton candy. Three who shouldn't hide the sun. Three among many racing across the sky as the day passes. From my park bench I look up at the sky, but others pass by me without bothering to glance up.
Their destination is unknown. They move slowly past the sun across the sky. They float up and surge across the sky like sailboats gliding gracefully through the sky as the wind carries them. This is how they move as the day passes by.
Lets not forgetting the creative mind. The natural beauty of the shapes, each creative mind personifies the clouds. Shapes, shapes, shapes the many different ones they make. They intrigue.
When the sun slowly sets, when the clouds have all passed through the sky, then the moon arises. When the millions of stars peek through the dark. Three who masked the sun. Three who unveiled the sun. Three who formed shapes for the creative mind.
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