Children jump in puddles
Without a second thought.
I want to too.
Just like I used to do.
But they’re far more shallow
Than I remember.
They used to be clear.
And beckoning.
Now they’re muddied
By reality.
Instead of barefoot and trusting
As I once was,
I don boots.
Protection.
Someday I’ll jump again.
And clear my fear-clouded eyes.
I’m just waiting for the perfect storm.