Two little boys march out of doors to play.
The blue and cloudless sky won’t be denied.
But puddles still remain from yesterday
When crashing thunder caused them both to hide.
The rain has filled the sandbox like a flood
And so they jump and splash and soak their shoes.
Their ankles up past knees covered in mud,
They grin a grin designed to beat the blues.
Then, all across the yard, from house to fence,
They suddenly decide they need to run.
And to their own imagined audience
They dance and sing a song up to the sun.
There’s nothing that can make a heart rejoice
More than the summer play of little boys.
Copyright © Stephen Tefft | Year Posted 2019