Down Came the Rain

brisk mornings spent
grasping onto oversized mittens
and this is the only time you let me
hold your sweet independent hands
and allow me to lead the way
only to the culdesac and
back
waving at passerbys,
neighbors,
from this same expensive
place
nearly two and amazed at how
breezes make their way through
trees
and how cats seem to spring out from
nowhere
and how an elderly neighbor likes just one
specific chair
there is beauty in watching you
watch me
pointing to curbs for the two of us to sit
on the verge of forming sentences,
stay as simple and so easily awed as you are
today
because this beautiful world rears its ugly head
eventually;
it allows us no time for
analyzing seasons
or dancing in rubber rainboots
puddles are left for vehicles
and weather only matters for the morning commute,
but maybe,
when it's all too hard to take,
you'll remember
a woman with a certain
purple peacoat
who needed your hand
more than you ever needed hers

 

Reviews

[Emily B]

oh, this is wonderfully written and I'm glad I came to it this morning