Cotton bole clouds in a powder blue sky

That's what the morning looked like on my drive from Montgomery Alabama to Patterson Louisiana.  The phrase jumped into my old brain as I turned west on I-10 in Mobile, and I really worked to remember it.  So often I hit on a phrase like that, one I think is worth remembering, and I promise myself I will remember but I don't.   This one seems to have stuck, so there it is.  Now I don't have to remember it alone anymore.

Tomorrow I turn north, rolling home to New Paltz.  It's been a good trip.  I won't be home long before I get back on the road, this time heading west with Elvis (my cat, not the ghost) on our way to Eugene Oregon.  I thought this summer would be spent mostly at home, so much for that thought.  I wanted to resurrect my garden but that also hasn't happened.  So much for plans.

Anyway, I'm eager to spend the couple of weeks between jaunts, at home.  

What kind of poem will those words fit into?  I'm thinking, long distant trucker maybe.  I'll have to work on that.

More later.