The rain makes a warm rattling sound
on the window, like a teenage fling
sneaking in after climbing the maple
while your parents slept rooms away

the thunder is far enough away
that it sounds like a muffled sigh
from a half-asleep lover on your shoulder
mixed with the remnants of your dream

lightning, then, which should come first
flashes you out of your memories
and into the moment, your dark room
where you lay awake thinking of love.