Crying clouds crowd the dreary gray skies
of October, releasing rivulets of tears
into already mucky, rain-soaked ground.
Hiding under wide-open umbrellas,
adults quickly stride from cars to buildings,
their briefcases safely tucked under,
protecting themselves and their papers
from the non-ending stream from above.
Donned in raincoat and boots,
backpacks bulging, zippers askew,
children splash from puddle to puddle,
giggling and smilng as they frolic to class,
damp, mud-splattered homework in tow.
Phyllis Moorman 