I lay on a hilltop surrounded by lush green grass and the wild flowers of spring 
My focus on clouds and my greatest wish - to paint them 
How do I choose from their ever-changing personalities, their multiplicity? 
 
Each cloud envelopes a palate of color 
Sunset clouds with richness beyond words 
Hot, hot pink layered into salmon orange 
Highlighted by bands of deep gunmetal gray 
Settling in to new grass green and robins' egg blue before disappearing beyond the horizon 
 
Storm tossed clouds lit from behind 
Filled with raw power 
Every shade of white to gray to black 
Marches past – Whipped by an invisible hand 
Colored by an imagination bent on chaos 
 
Billowing thunderheads 
Build over mountain peaks 
Straining to surpass the might of the mountain 
Luminescent and whiter than white could possibly be 
Outlined in gold with stray shafts of light interwoven. 
Reaching out to comfort and confront the avid cloud gazer 
 
How do I capture the roasted marshmallow clouds  
Or the horses' tails whipped into motion by high winds aloft 
 
I am finding that cloud painting  
Whether in words or in color  
Is almost impossible 
 
Instead, I will lay 
On a grassy green hilltop 
Focusing on clouds 
And their multiplicity 
Saving each color and shape 
For savoring, perhaps to paint, on a sunny, cloudless 
"Really boring" day.