The Park

Water droplets sprinkle down,
spiraling forward onto the faces of young ones,
they scatter,
desperately searching for cover,
for protection.
A few linger,
dancing in the falling moisture.
These are the brave ones,
for instead of cowering under park benches
or tall oak trees,
they meet their foe in a wild spree of utter joy.
Their clothes gather water like a sponge,
but alas they care not,
instead they revel in the adrenaline,
in one seemingly trivial moment in time.
It is then that I wonder,
should we too revel in moments such as these?


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