ballads for slow dancers

Like a carousel. Spinning into an orange scene. Today I sent twenty letters. In the middle of the day I stood by my window and watched the clouds. They moved quickly, so I knew it was windy outside. A grayish layer hovered close to me like cobweb. A heavier cloud was moving from left to right. The left side from which it came was an area of the sky where the white and the blue were sharply defined. The right side was thick and cottony and slightly pink and purple. Then I went back to writing letters. And now it is night.