There's so much light
pouring through
a window pane
when the rain
fell down
like it did
today

and like how I
climbed
the butte with
you
and how you made
the tea

settle in
with me
when we go
home
after our legs
have been worked
in

and you'll stir the
soup
and yell at the
whistling kettle
for singing its song
too loudly

it's when the sun
is filling the room
and my legs are
dangling on you
that the light
wins,
and wins again.