A Teenage Poet in Victoria Gardens, Neath

Once I would have sat much like she does now:
her auburn curls nesting in the creases
of her elbows—leaning forward to scrawl
into a notebook resting on her knees...

with every word she rocks her foetal pose,
pivots on poetic form as she mouths
her thoughts transposed into verse, shaded
by the tree that escapes the small of her back.

Her bare toes massage the grass beneath them,
teasing a daisy every now and then—

but as the clouds draw in, with the first
cooling spatter against inked pages,
she stops the running count on her fingers
and rises to meet the rain with wide eyes.

Thank you all. The reads and comments are appreciated

For anyone interested, this is Victoria gardens in the town centre of Neath, and this is the tree where she was sat (the one on the left; it's not a very good shot of the park, but you can make out where I was watching from--Christ that makes me sound pervy ). It's a lovely, quiet place--a throw back in many ways, and the bandstand is where many an event takes place still, music, performance art, and poetry. We were on a day out, me and the kids just going for a walk about on a Sunday afternoon. Inspiration strikes at the oddest times and in the strangest forms, don't you think?

Thanks Dave.