A good wait

I love these tiny,
little drops
that fall from such high places.
They rain and pour
on a warmer day,
causing a rush
of the fastest footsteps I’ve ever heard.

I can almost sweat
when I’m standing this still.
Waiting for a late bus
and trying to balance
the coffee in the other hand.
This pavement’s new,
and the water beads, leaving
endless little puddles
where a lack of footprints
keeps it all looking new.

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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