Fluffy and soft,

cloudy softness drifts.

Colors paint the sky,

morning blush or evening gift.

I see a dragon in the blue,

wings stretched wide, its breath brand-new.

A fleeting tale the heavens write,

a story fading into night.

Scales of shadow, black and blue,

tiles that gleam where sunlight grew.

It soars through clouds with sweeping might,

swooping low, then out of sight.

At midnight’s edge it climbs the sky,

rising higher, soaring high.