I catch one in my palm,

possess it there for a moment,

and cradle it,

cradle it as if this miniscule orb

is a newborn child,

or a fragment of myself.

In the fleeting time

that it is with me,

it illuminates my skin,

purifies it for a moment,

magnifies both wrinkles,

and sweet smoothness.

And then, all of a sudden,

as quickly as it fell upon

my outstretched palm,

it evaporates, or escapes

to join the waiting puddle

on the sidewalk.

I held it for a moment though,

and for a tender moment,

it was mine, and it defined

my thoughts, my being, my self.

And though it's gone now

to join the pool of anonymity...

I can still feel a slight trace

of it upon my hand,

and for me, that is enough.