A Poodle Parade

we were doing what we always do
cloud watching, on a hot Southern day
appreciating the banks of fluffy,
white cumulus clouds

maybe, probably, it would storm later
but now the sky was brilliant blue
an artistic background for clouds
painted by God, marveled at by us

“Look, look, Darling, look
it's a summer stampede of poodles
fluffy, white poodles on parade
and our poodle is the grand marshal"

“I'm sorry, Dearest,” he said
“I only see fluffy clouds, no poodles
I'm almost sure you see them
because you love them so”

“I certainly do see a poodle parade
I'm so sorry you can't envision it
they are magnificent, frisking
across the blue wilderness”

“ Then you enjoy parade day,
Love, and when the sky turns gray
and the clouds change with it
perhaps you'll see a black stampede"