Wet Brooks

Rain had fallen, hard and bright, bright, Hollywood rain,
Running and splashing through puddles,
Sodden socks in sodden shoes squelching every step.

Dancing round mud, skating over cobbles,
Mud splatters bare legs, encrusted. later dusted.
Cloudy, stirred soup water ripples.

Ever decreasing circles, mark drips that still drop.
Rods part as huddled umbrellas grumble.
Dry but not warm old men, wrapped in plastic,

Dogs sit obedient, or strain impatient,
Salt drips to my mouth, vapour rising wispy,
On fields, on water, on my arms.