Paul climbed a ladder
to take a look on top of a cloud.
It was not the thousands of pink balloons
he expected to see holding up the cloud.
Paul refused to tell me
what he saw on top of the cloud
until I tilted a windmill of my own
and I lived in the desert near Albuquerque.
Paul cautioned me that the turbines
on the wind farms do not count as windmills.
I think he wanted a loaf of bread
to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I asked him to listen to the birds
and I would be home before the moon disappeared.
I was delayed at the grocery by a beautiful checkout girl
who was unfamiliar with how to count back change
on a cash transaction
and nearly missed my self-imposed deadline.
copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney