The puddles were dark,
Except where the glow from the streetlamps
Bounced upon them as they gently rippled
In a peaceful April breeze.
And they slowly grew - welcoming each new,
softly-falling drop.
But he had the misfortune to step in one
As he walked.
-Goddamm rain, he said.
BRILLIANT!
you are a rare genius, my friend, if i may call you that.
Wow, thanks for the kind words! Sometimes you put words together and get lucky with how they read. I don’t know what possessed me to post this one. I wrote it for a creative writing class I had in college more than twenty years ago. Cleaning out a file cabinet the other day I came across it, along with a few other ones. I always kind of liked it. I was more creative then.
I love this, Jerry.
Wait, I reread it and now I see it makes perfect sense. but is the perception of the beauty of the scene that of the guy walking or the narrator? if it was the guy walking seeing it like that b ut then having to say damn rain, then it captures something more.
Thanks for the comments, Gamer. I caught the first ones, too, before you edited them and I think you were on the money. I can see where it does sound a little preachy. I hate that. But I’m not honestly sure what I was thinking when I wrote it 'cause I wrote it a long time ago. My thinking though is that the narrator is also the guy stepping in the puddle, because I have been both, but never really at the same time. They’re different perspectives. I don’t know if you can hold both views simultaneously. Maybe.