Thursday, September 22, 2011
Each puddle a miniature world
a tide pool of possibilities
not just on the microscopic level
but the imaginative one as well.
Peering at the girl studying me intently
from the other side of the water,
we speculate about each other's lives.
Does she have a daughter, a dog, and
a weird husband and does she write
poems about ordinary, as opposed to
Do those dark watery eyes hide the
same depression and despair,
interspersed by contentment and joy?
I touch the quivering surface and
the wonder disappears in ripples.
(Written for Theme Thursday #67, "Rain", 9/22/11; also posted for
Thursday Poet's Rally # 52, 9/22/11)