The girl with polka dotted wellies
is shin deep in garden
cavorting in a pine bark sea
because under the tip, flip, drizzling
it’s a four inch day.
My plastic tablecloth billows
and the carpark's running downhill -
gravel rush and mud skin...
and there’s the bob-gloss of umbrellas
and a three foot leap with shrieking
across one-time-only creek.
Gumboots and bare feet and
the squelch of sneakers over-wrought
because today the world
has come up gull-risen and dripping
merging grey. At the tips
white bones, skull to the wind
feather-combed in the draw of air.
Follow the sky snuff’s
wheeze and splutter as it
drags down trees and drain pipes
until trawling streams
weave patterns in the dirt
around your toes and mine,
We’re in it together
snap-hooded and flushing
and the cold swooshes in
so we hug tight in table cloth
tartan, wet to wet and giggling.
Nose seep, damp feet, underneath
a plastic sheet on a four inch day.
I miss when I was young 🙂
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What a great day!
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A bit of rain, eh?
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Yeah. We had a drop or two.
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