It’s
just a patch of dirty water,
nondescript,
huddled by the curb,
silently
waiting for evaporation
as
it reflects upon its short life,
when
it is suddenly catapulted
into
eternity by the sandaled feet
of
a three-year-old boy.
Over
at dVerse
Poets, the poetry prompt is the beauty of everyday things. I don’t think I
could find something more prosaic than a mud puddle. To see more poems
responding to the prompt, please visit dVerse
Poets.
Photograph by George Hodan via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
