Walking in the rain by Charlie Hill

In an alley on the way to the Lidl

of a small town wet with rain,

I came across a louring mother

and her daughter, who was piercing

the clouds with cheer, like an exaltation

from the long-forgotten sun.

That was the puddle of my dreams!

beamed the girl, splashing happily,

and as the woman turned and looked away,

I thought how the words would mean

something different, had they come

from her instead;

and then I then caught myself –

jumped into a sodden daydream of my own –

because they hadn’t, had they?

__________

Charlie Hill is a writer from Birmingham. His poems have appeared in Under the Radar and on Ink Sweat and Tears, and he has been a regular contributor to Prole. He was shortlisted for the Edge Hill Prize 2024