Shining Sun before heavy rain later.
A little boy points at dark holly
that scratches waiting air over
the perimeter walls of the tennis club.
The high rises, the Cricket Towers,
are freshly painted and almost charming
while over the leafless-tree-filled park
the Sun gets smudged.
Put a thumb over faded light
to finish it; be a giant now.
Today I could give up kindness
and smiling and settle down
into that one still crystal heart valve
and be sharp and hard if I wanted to.
If I wanted to, I would.