Puddles

December 18, 2009
A light drizzle encourages growing Puddles
An autumn breeze whistles past my hooded face
Birds converse with the pale white birch trees
These are the only sounds I hear as the cars sit
Abandoned, lonely, keeping people snug indoors
The leash wrapped around my hand tugs lightly
As my dog’s paws splash on the wet asphalt
She wants to chase a chatty squirrel away
It scampers up a tree, finding refuge with the birds
We continue to walk, listening to the rain on the leaves
They bow and dip as the raindrops land temporarily
On their fragile spines, then roll off to the wet grass below
The Puddles are larger now, deepening every second
Rainwater runs freely alongside the road toward the dead end
At the bottom of this incline, there a pond is expanding
Moments later we are at its edge, scanning for a way around
None. After some pondering we turn back
Tomorrow, when the rain dries up, we will return
Not wanting to be defeated by the Puddle





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