If the rain won't stop, then I will--

ingrained mantra of all

but the very young who

splash with abandoned care,

ducklings in puddles

with no umbrellas but the

ones that make them

take flight in the wind,

mother geese nearby, war paint

melting off their faces,

next to mallard ducks in funny suits,

time stopping in their hands,

all trying to take cover,

and the ducklings

stop too,

because their parents never

looked so lovely

as they do right now

with the pretenses and

the pretending removed,

like they were once kids too,

who splashed along in puddles

and enjoyed the rain of yesterday.