How It Is / My english teacher wanted me to write a metaphorical poem

The sky is filled today
clouds
every shape
size
color
whisking and piling up
in it's dome of reality

Standing on the beach
beside the ocean
unfurling waves
a little girl
with sundropped skin and
red boots
she sees this
and wonders how it came to be

Weaving violets into crowns
picking up each shell her foot hits
to examine
touch
and lay back where it was

Watching as the sky blooms
and the clouds ebb with color

Throw a shell 
into the sea
it gets washed back up on shore

The little girl, she
lays down on
the rain dimpled sand
watches as
stars try to break through the misty screen
a few succeed

Wind is pulling her
long braids
as if it's trying
to take her back through the dune grass
where her stone cottage sits quietly

One last glance at the sky
before she trudges home
the seashell that was returned
pressed in the palm of her hand

Maybe the sky
will be less cloudy tomorrow