it was the rain

i found my pocket empty today,

the words once kept there

gone.

but they were never mine

to have,

only mine to hold

until the rain should come

and whisper them

away.

Reviews

[Jenny Wren]

When you're dancing in the rain in someone's arms, it's easier to be a fool. The rain becomes much less intolerable, and more bewitching. . . your poem reminds me of such an experience.