Forever ago,
maybe,
I had done this before,
but growing up had pushed it aside,
disregarded it as child’s play.
Yet somehow as I listened
to the rain
pounding against the auditorium roof,
the child in me
awakened
and now I stand
breathless,
with my pant legs soaked, as
he looks at me
and laughs
and takes my hand to walk me
to the dry and warm.
But before we step onto the sidewalk,
as we linger there in the parking lot
in the swirling space between young and old,
I can see us years ago
as 8 year olds dashing through nightfall
to splash ourselves
joyously
as we did tonight.
And for all the maturity I pretend to have,
my soul sheds a
raindrop tear
for the simple happiness
I have lost.