Droplets of water flash upward
as your toes land in the almost puddles.
They'll do for the moment.
I watch as you hunt for more,
your blonde hair peeking from the
edges of the sideways-slipping, too-big cap.
You spy another and, tiptoeing over
the asphalt, you patter toward its edges,
tentative until, on its very brim, you pounce.