aberdeen main rd, bus stop

this is the drain that i fell in and wrote a poem about.

To my sweetheart, the drain

It all started with the drain.
Running late, my skin cold from the frigid air on the bus,
my sandals slippery from the sudden return to humidity,
the bag on my back is heavy with everything i have to do today and then
an old lady is ambling, carrying shopping bags that span the whole
path, taking her time.
I dodge up along the edge.
I slip…
It takes 15 minutes from losing balance to hitting the ground.
Falling backward from the weight of my bag.
Time to notice everything.
Then I fell in a drain.
Green slime on my summer dress, leaves stuck to my legs,
bruised, messy, embarrassed, fascinated.
The old woman stops and gives me a tiny packet of tissues, one at a
time,
the people at the bus stop watch me with palpable schadenfreude.

This is a falling in love story.