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Puddles
Elaina B., Waterloo, NY

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By James S., E. Setauket, NY

Surely I’m not the only one who’s stopped
At the edge of a puddle in the sidewalk
When the sunlight was hitting it just right
So that the illusion of the azure sky was
Covering cracked bitter concrete.

Of course, I’ve always taken the step forward
And seen a different angle
And been disgusted by the cruel farce
Played by the glassy even surface and the small
Tuft of white I could see overhead
Just a second before.



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