Musing: Clouds

Few things make me happier than seeing two ivory heads peaking out and bobbing back and forth in the rear view window of a Buick. I don't even mind the fact that the driver is going five miles under the speed limit, I'm fascinated by the heads moving in a rhythmic fashion in the backseat, like two doves cooing on a power line. I wonder what they're singing, if it's Frank Sinatra, Waylon Jennings, or maybe even the Big Bopper. It has to be something great, otherwise they wouldn't have curly hair brighter and whiter than the clouds. When I'm older, I hope my head is forever in the clouds.