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Painting the Clouds


Kimberly Osburn

 Memories of a summer day lost in the mystery of time. I go back to a
place I loved that I thought would always be mine.

Those were the days when summers were long and cares were very few. I'd
love to return just one more time as if those days were new.

Walking with grandma along the road, we look up at the sky. The sun is
setting and painting the clouds while it slowly says goodbye.

The billows of pink and misty orange tell a tale from far away. She says
it means that tomorrow will be another beautiful day.

I think of her each time I see a glorious setting sun. Memories of love
will paint the clouds when my day is done.

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