in from the rain

the sound of heavy rain
slapping leafy trees
and the eaves
of our old tin roof
which sometimes leaks
calls to mind
another time
so far removed
from this forgotten place

when we stood in cool rain
soaked through
to the skin,
her wet lips
so achingly close
yet somehow out
of reach.

those sparkling eyes
froze my thoughts dry
as rain ran
in rivulets
down her soft,
honey-colored skin
which captured my attention
whole —

and it seemed
like the sands of time
might comply
and choose to slow
its inexorable flow
to savor this moment
right along
with us
until streetlights
finally called her back
home.

she’s been gone
for many years now
but on nights like these
when the rains
come fast to drown
our mortal cares
i remember a day
unlike any other as two
young fools
more lost than found
refused to come in
from the rain.

Photo by Skyler Ewing from Pexels