haiku
by rcribay
the clouds
reforming–
a puddle’s reflection.
Brown paper bags
fat with lunch
crunch inside satchels
and under little feet.
Near the sandpit
with its secret goldmine
of hats and longlost shoes.
Such anticipation
for something so simple,
a red flying fox
and monkeybars
joined at the hip and
looming
tall
ready for use
but when the sun goes down
when skipping ropes
and yoyos scamper home
looming still
and tall
while homeless
dogs quietly
sleep.
