Cottony puff balls of vapor Scudding across a blue sky Roiling and rolling into shapes As the atmospheric winds push them along Who hasn't, as a child, lain on the grass Looking up and imagining seeing something Where it shouldn't be Competing with siblings and friends to find it first I can no longer look up without getting dizzy And I'm certainly not going to lie on my back in the grass As I get itchy from just the thought, But I do look for different signs What is the weather going to be like Are the contrails made by cirrus clouds Or the vapor of jets high above Those are my concerns of today Now and then I think I should take the time To look upward - keeping my balance by sitting In a lawn chair - to see if I can see The imaginings of my inner child
Creative, I like the tone of your poem .
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