BAREFOOT IN THE RAIN

Yesterday when the old man looked out his window pane 

he saw children playing in the rain

 

running through the puddles in the street 

with no umbrellas…in their bare feet

 

and he harkened back to a time with pride 

when he was a child playing outside

 

a time he wished he could repeat.  

when imagination inspired his feet.

 

when he played and climbed and recited rhymes…

back when he had the indulgence of time.

 

as more drops fell upon his window pane 

he wondered, when was the last time he played in the rain?

 

watching the children as they crissed and crossed 

he wondered…at what point was his innocence lost?

 

then his inner voice said, “It isn’t gone.  

it’s there in the rain…out on the lawn.”

 

so he left the safety of his window pane, 

took off his shoes…and ran out in the rain.

 

and barefoot out there in the pouring rain 

he was reunited once again

 

with an innocence…he thought was lost…

as on the lawn he crissed and crossed…

 

as he ran through the puddles out in the street 

 

with no umbrella…in his bare feet.


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allets's picture

Nostalgic Write

I used to climb trees, but guess what? Un uh, won't be scaling saplings anytime soon, but the wonder, the joy of youth! - slc


 

 

baniv's picture

Sweet

the innocene is felt through your words :).

 


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