It’s a dreary day, she said.
Why’s that? he replied.
The grey, the low cloud, the unexpected tumble of rain.
People with heads down, donned in black.
Boots tramping in puddles, splashing without care on neighbours passing by.
The chill in the air that pricks the face of those venturing out.
The melancholy vibe.
It’s a dreary day, she said.
Search again, he replied.
Search where? she questioned.
In the way the rain caresses your cheek as it flows from the sky.
In the eyes of your neighbours,
In their souls.
As the puddles release a radiant throb from passers-by.
The rose rising in your cheeks as you enter the chill of the day.
He smiled.
It’s a radiant day, she said.
Leigh Donovan, 21 November 2023, Bayview.
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