If it Never Rained
If it wasn't for space and time
there'd be no summer in your shaded eyes.
A distant thunderstorm; lightning striking twice, careful, warm, breezy breaths, pushing through the tree of Life,
Mineral and oil bathed skin,
a sparkling rain shower from the west,
oh, your brilliance floods my memory.
If there is no time, and just this space,
how silly of me to take for granted
summer storms on a winter's night.
We slept like elders waiting for the weather to pass,
fools, not seeing the weather in each other's eyes.
I saw summer.
Maybe you are curled up, like a
widower waiting for the fire to burn out--
Oh, but wasn't there a storm in your eye,
when we fell out of space,
on to a farm in Nicaragua,
mangoes and avocados,
living in the rain?