Palm Springs Eternal

Morning clouds passing by

begin to show some blue.

Later the remaining wisps

dance and scurry away

as if they know

fire in the sky

will burn them

if they stay.

I sit with morning tea.

Condo sprinklers like rain.

My thoughts like dark clouds

as I listen to morning news.

Hopeful memory calls,

invokes an image of

Woodstock Nation anew.

Once I reveled in its kiss

as I joined that path.

Look skyward and wait

for the clouds to part.