Puddles

By
Upside-down faces flock to the trees;
The day is crying,
Yet the young smile
As they walk all over each other
In purple and blue
(And the ever-popular yellow)
Carrying heart-shaped boxes
Filled with butterfly mirrors
To intensify what little light there is
As we shrink behind black umbrellas,
Vampires even on cloudy days;
But I must admit, umbrella and all,
I do love my red galoshes.





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