Sunbeams tickle and lick at
messy soaked hair and wind swept swings.
Little feet run circles ‘round the yard,
now home to puddles and small pieces of rubber
from water balloons.
They laugh and tumble through the grass,
sour apple snacks on their tongues and
a grandmother’s voice in their ears to
“Be careful please!”
For she stands on the red patio, capris soaked to the hips from
filling and tying balloons that splattered the lawn
in wild spin art of children’s play,
nothing but smiles for the rest of the day.