Play Puddle

Cold, freezing, stinging, sideways rain

catches me off guard.

 

From a grey sky it falls;

wisps of raincloud; swirl, twist and mix.

Thunder echoes as lightning streaks through empty

flooded streets, a constant reminder.

 

There are children in a narrow alleyway.

They play half naked in shadowed puddles, among broken crates

and trash and a wet decomposing smell.

They turn twisted smiles as the freezing water

 

slides over their feet.

 

Their cries are muffled by thunder when they look into these muddy puddles,

vessels carrying distorted views, unable to comprehend.

They splash the freezing water in each others face,

until their mothers scatter them like frightened birds.

 

They playfull run for cover.

 

The clouds play their own game, and a crevice forms in their ranks.

A herald of sunlight breaks the defenses.

It gleams in the muddy brown water, and the children dive for it,

for the shining disk in their play puddle.

 

 

Author's Note

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