skipping down the cobblestone–
The sun steals back the heat from the sky
and shoves it back into its’ front pockets.
Naked, bony trees shiver above the puddles,–
To own a pocket full of sighs
sends more liquid echoes like Morse code to
the sky or whoever will receive them.
It only took one crack in the clouds
–Umbrellas blossomed like buttercups.
Now the public library has the steamiest windows…