Puddles of water and a foot
tapping in nonchalance with
the school bell ringing in
time. French words surround
me, though I’m unawares;
a half-glance, a stare and
I’m sold. I don’t care what they
called it in juvenile rhymes
where we danced as the
stars were unfurling. We
dined ‘neath fireworks, a
fat pie and some wine, and
the cutlery sang into the new
silence. Yesterday’s moments
are foundations of stone that
merge under a tower of dove-
tailed wonder.
#365DaysOfPoetry