On Monday, Merril was hosting dVerse Prosery.  I love this challenge of using only 144 words to tell a story - not in poetry but in prose, using a phrase supplied.  Merril's head must have been in the clouds because that is the theme for this one.  We must use the following:

"But these clouds are clearly foreign, such an exotic clutter

Against the blue cloth of the sky"

              –from "Clouds" by Constance Urdang

Do take the time to read her poem. It is wonderful! (Very short)

Anyway, how could I resist when I so love clouds?  I couldn't.  That said, I am really late to the party so, without further ado:

Pastel hues greet me as I open my blinds, declaring that, beyond my field of vision, the sun has only just risen.  I dress and step out into the morning and am immediately shrink-wrapped in a second skin of humidity.  The air is thick and there is no breeze to be had.  Nevertheless I set off at a light run, on soundless feet (our karate Shihan taught us to run quietly - no heels! no thuds!)  I make my way along my now-familiar path, feeling I am one with the universe.  My soundscape consists of crawing crows and tweeting birds.  Pastels have given way to vibrant fire by the time I get to the park.   I look up and Oh! But these clouds are clearly foreign.  Such an exotic clutter  against the blue cloth of the sky cannot ever be considered plain.

Everyday exotic beauty.