Puddle Jumping

At nine, on rainy Mondays,
Running down winding streets,
To take that leap of faith,
Into puddles,
Crystal clear joys, of innocence.

At twelve, on icy mornings,
Paper round complete, heading home,
First stirrings of independance, skipping,
Through puddles,
Cracked, cold reflections of uncertainty.

At sixteen, on dark winter evenings,
Kissing, in fumbling wet confusion,
Saturday night, neon reflections,
In puddles,
Floundering with emotion.

At twenty, on stormy nights,
Bone weary wanderings,
Feet dragging grimy boots,
Through puddles,
Dark, muddy forbodings, of times tide.

At forty, on drizzled afternoons,
Staring at bare, damp, walls,
To take that leap of desperation,
Over puddles,
To fall back, drowning in fear.


Olias.