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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1587375
an acrostic of appreciation.
Dry feet were never our thing.
Another downpour caught us,
Not quite near enough to shelter.
Canvas sneakers soon soaked
In the quick forming puddles.
No reason to complain or lament
Green fields darkened with rain.

Instead of hurrying along,
Nowhere special to go,
The mists enchanted us.
Here we stopped to play.
Etnies and Nikes removed,
Red toe socks bared,
A slow tango we began,
Increasing in rhythm.
Now we dance in the rain.
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