Fluffy Cloud

It is a beautiful evening Tennessee cloud, isolated in the heavens like
a puff of smoke. Sometimes the smallest things bring joy unexpectedly; a
smile, the evening breeze, a shadow over a doorway, a small bird
passing, a tree leaning into the wind.

It has been a long dry summer. It was 94 today. I sit on the eastward
side of our house to escape the sun's heat. A few cars trickle by. I
continue reading Darkness Visible by William Styron desribing his
descent into madness.

The cloud has barely moved. The shadow of the sun's yellow shade fills
the whiteness.