Songkran

Where streets are flooded with cold clear tap water
Truck beds trailing it all over town
Kiddie pools
Iceless ice chests
And five shades of powdered chicanery
Laughter comes in shrieks
Hands too eager to throw
Clothes too damp to dry
Too heavy to remove
Water guns are for the weak
The true artillery is three small buckets paired with three small bodies and an endless basin
A hose without a nozzle
A heart full of insouciance

-E.E.

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