The baseball court is sogged with water and the trees shudder and bend close together
The constancy of the rain 
         rippling circle, circle, circle 
mirrors the relentless small wet feet on the pool deck 
                          slapping thwack, thwack, thwack 
Reveling in the graciousness of god to turn off the thunder
A rhythmic duet punctuated by WAAAAALK 
as the lifeguards shake their pruny fists with gooseflesh arms
huddled under hole-riddled umbrellas
One small little girl 
Dark curls drenched down to the tutu connected to her swimsuit 
(which her mother must comb through to protest every night) 
bears a smile despite the chill her small body endures 
As warm as a dwarf star burning bright in a rippled Van Gogh sky