lights
sparkling lights
blue and green and fuchsia
like the color of a salmon
flashing in the sun
it’s belly white as the flesh of a cut chicken breast
like the gills of plump mushrooms
swelling in dark rotten wood
the lights shine
sparkle
on wet streets
wet streets that have been showered
with rain
after
rain
after
rain
and are now glistening
and scattered with
halves
of pearls dropped from thunderheads
that grumbled like old men
red shoes
pumps
glossy pumps
strut across wet pavement
dark pavement
sodden swollen sidewalks
so full up with water
that they hurt
and with each step of the cherry red pumps
they ache and moan and shift uncomfortably
hoping not to bust like a slug under a sneaker