After the rain

Bathing in the glorious aftermath

Of a lukewarm spring shower,

The spider crawls along his

Damp glistening web, eagerly

Anticipating his woven trap to shudder.

The trees are shining and glossy

As if laminated by the rain,

A hundred birds sing in time

Enticing the worm to rise.

You and me stand in silence

Not awkward or unsure,

I take your delicate hand

And feel I’ve inherited the world.