Circle Seen In Rain

Stopping at the red crossing light, I watched a trail of people walk To the other side: my wipers Flicked the teardrops of rain away, Showing me a slide-show then, In successive frames of progress: Here a mother with a pushchair, A girl clutching her doll tightly, Looking at the wet streets and sky, And in a notable circle Of what I see will come again, A wheelchair followed them slowly, The occupant a silver-haired And tired mother, the chair pushed by Her grown daughter, dutifully Progressing to their future years, Ploughing water furrows on the Shining pavement and falling rain.