The People Outside

From my window I covertly watch
while neighbors have a party.
They have a little blow up pool
which little girls in bathing suits
and neatly braided hair splash
at boys in little swimming trunks.
On the porch, the grown-ups sit
sharing conversation, and taking turns
watching the grill or the kids.
Till one of the girls goes crying
towards the out stretched hands
of her mother, while another mom
scolds one of the little boys

The water of the pool has splashed
up over the sides and down
first onto sidewalk, then street.
Where it runs randomly away
from the closest grate.
And while I listen to the music
laughter, splashing and talk.
I watch a whole story.
As if the people outside
were trapped in a TV some where
Or in the pages of my journal
ready to be typed into life
or trapped on a page, a hard drive.
Where the splashing kids,
talking adults and running water
play in a never ending circle
as if contained, as if fiction.