I came here to work on an assignment I put off;
I figured it would be quiet and I could get things done.

But in the quiet I watched crimson leaves
dancing in the rain as the wind would let them,
and I remembered when we did the same.

And I thought about just how much
a change in the weather can do to shatter relationships
and wished for the thousandth time
that summer never came
and graduation never happened
and you never left.

I didn't need the sun anymore—
you were my Apollo—
but you knew how much I loved the moon,
and you shone too brightly in my eyes
for me to see it anymore.

And I'm thanking you forever
for bringing back the stars.
There's nothing more important in my life.
But it's a tricky kind of gratitude
because part of me is pleading
for another eclipse,
for you to block everything out again,
but just for a moment.

So I can remember what it's like
to feel the warmth of the sun
while we're standing in the rain.