(The true beauty of youth).
Fat raindrops tumbling into slate-slick puddles
like dropped pennies, splashing.
Holding out your hat, upside down
the tartan beret,
you comically try to catch them
laughing, as if you could win a prize,
before emptying them out with a flippant shake,
all interest gone.
I watch you as your body floats,
perfectly, a sculpture brought to life,
moving through my astonished vision,
the trill of laughter, soprano
in such a beautiful storm.
© Graham Sherwood 03/2015
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