The cleansing smell following

The downpour permeated the air.

Steam rose from a ground

Dotted with puddles

And escaping earthworms.

Three boys emerged

From the mist

Rejoicing in the respite

From the summer rain.

They sauntered up the street,

Shoving each other's shoulders

As only good friends can do.

Their laughter joined

The caw of the crow,

Keeping a lookout

Atop the nearby church tower.

The boys delighted in

Every puddle,

Attempting to jump

Them into dry canyons.

A shaggy dog shadowed the trio,

Tail held high,

In his joy at the excursion.

I watched from my bench,

Smiling at their innocent

Happiness-in-the-moment,

Longing for such easy joy.

The pick-up truck,

Gleaming in the sun,

Crept near the boys.

I watched with concern

As the young, redneck boy,

Barely older than the

Three on the street,

Spat his hatred out the window,

"Git outta my way, niggers!"

Laughter fell out of the

Passenger window - his cohort.

The boys moved to the side,

Their dog, hackles raised,

Followed quickly, keeping

A watch on the truck

As it finally rolled down

The street, carrying its

Evil out of the sunshine.

Silence. Even the crow

Had quieted his voice.

Then one boy pushed another,

Evoking a brief giggle,

The third jumped into the next puddle.

Soon they were making their

Way up the street again.

Three boys,

Enjoying

The respite ...

… from the rain.