Clouds

I stare Glaring Up high At the sky. My eyes Flying Like birds See clouds They’re not loud. They remind me of smoke And our not made out of oak And in my mind Like pepper that grinds The thought that pops into my mind are Is It Nice In The Clouds? I let my mind wander And find Myself dreaming about clouds that are pillows I let my mind wander And find Myself wondering if clouds are actually cities in the sky I let my mind wander And find Myself dreaming that clouds are sheep And still Like a hill The hurricane question in my mind To this day Continues to be Is it nice in the clouds?