Clouds scurrying across the sky,
tumbling after each other,
caught up in the expectation of something special.
Blue patches following on behind,
until the next bank of cloud appears.
Where are they all going in such a hurry,
what excitement awaits their arrival?
What will they miss out on if
they are not first in the queue?
As I walk along, watching the urgency in the antics,
I realise the futility of it all
because they are on a journey to ....
What is this place called Nowhere
that so many of us seek?
I think it is written incorrectly -
split it up-
what do we get?
We have arrived.