You always hear the cowboy Cry
About the rolling of the vast western sky.
Of thunderhead that can be seen for miles away.
The Rain, sand or hail storms seeming to quickly drift in
The tumultuous moods of a prairie sky.
Sometime staying to darken sky and mood
Other leaving but a taste to linger in memory.
All can agree the sight of white cloud
against a crisp blue sky
is something all do remember.
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