Leaving

The sun rose and fell like a child’s laugh
over a playground scene,
as the rain hung in the air
waiting to fall.

It was strange, then,
when they came to play
on the lightly christened swings,
where the drops sat.

And strange again when they left
and I breathed a sigh of relief,
but was glad they had come
and left before she arrived.

Meanwhile I stood waiting,
water gathering on my shoulders
and rolling down,
down the outline of my coat
and dripping off the edges of my sleeves.

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