Winter rain falls like rushed snow,
hurried free of its intricate lattice,

setting down on your silvery snow-jacket,
seeping through its outer layers, now damp—

your sodden nylon sleeves cling
to the limited space of your figure.

Look around, there are no other children
in the wide, dusk-bright park,

there is just the rain tapping against the path.
Best to go home now

before the chilled rivulets forming in the street
begin to freeze.