I’ve been a lot of places
And gazed into their heavens
But nothing tops the fluffy white
Clouds that float above Nevada.

Voluptuous whip cream tumbles,
Drifts that could be brand new snow,
Arrayed across a sky so blue
It can’t believe itself is real.

No yellow tinge or smokey blur
Those clouds explode beneath the sun
And often times play hide-and-seek
When it becomes the afternoon

They almost never carry rain
Even when  their base turns dark
They tease the desert sands that way
Then on a whim they wend away.
ljm