A dog, no a shoe, no wait... a spoon. Drifting through the air are different shapes traveling across the sky. Never staying in the same spot, always migrating, will they ever come back to the same spot? Emotions tearing through the sky, sometimes they cry, or strike with anger, or darken with frustration, or spread through the air in panic. Sometimes they create a splash of color that shoots across the sky. Sometimes you may not even see one, or sometimes they will claim the sky blocking off any light. If only I could be up there with them, my mind clear of any thoughts... clouds