Small Hands

Small hands, outstretched beneath cold eaves in the rain,
water cascading from tjiwyèz palms, dripping
from a boy’s fingers imagining waterfalls
waterfalls that send ants scurrying into spaces
beneath wet leaves where I surmised they lived.
Fascinated by what seemed then,
their going-in without and emerging with wings (the ants) with which
to fly into the light         the soft light of a rainy day
...