Saturday night's
rain down
the glass
reminds me of
when the sky
tipped
& beaded
on my face
in the spare
maple as spring
came on.
I laughed
& shook the shine
from my hair
as my fingers
gestured water
into the hillside
streeted
with roots.
I found the road
as the dusk
whistled
& followed it
back to the slope
where headlights
kicked against
the first pierce
of stars.
The rain sat
on the ruddy brick
& glowered.
I sailed
over lawns
black with dousing
& listened
to the drop
and lilt.
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 11:33 PM UTC
Saturday night's
rain down
the glass
reminds me of
when the sky
tipped
& beaded
on my face
in the spare
maple as spring
came on.
I laughed
& shook the shine
from my hair
as my fingers
gestured water
into the hillside
streeted
with roots.
I found the road
as the dusk
whistled
& followed it
back to the slope
where headlights
kicked against
the first pierce
of stars.
The rain sat
on the ruddy brick
& glowered.
I sailed
over lawns
black with dousing
& listened
to the drop
and lilt.
