Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Grounds For Puddles

Puddles. Stomping
grounds for rubber
boots or church-shined
shoes. Grounds
for oodles of delight

to smile in a flash
of white and a clash of flesh
off which impulses leap
and land in squeals
and a splash. Innocence
grounded in

grins and in screams
unleashed, as wiggles,
giggles, and tickles smash
and alight. Children
into puddles, like moths
to a light, ripple delicious

igniting like sparkles.
As if skyrocketing
souls up into the bright
rainbow hue of puddles,
childhood shimmers out of view.

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