Pink on Rain

The rain came down hard,

turned the park’s cracked pavement

into a slick canvas.

A girl knelt, her knees mud-spotted,

fingers smeared with chalk dust

that blossomed in wet tendrils,

colors bleeding slow,

as if the sun she drew

was dissolving in water.

Nearby, a stick of pink chalk

lay soft, dissolving, forgotten,

like a promise we make and lose

while everything around us changes.

I watched the fragile sun

fade under gray skies—

a brief bright thing

washed away before it could dry.