I couldn’t stop the rain, that heavy rain. It fell and fell. You turned off the room fan so that I could listen more deeply.
February rains; how odd and disconcerting for I sense I am in April but I know I am in February and the gutters are full and filling and draining and you left early for an appointment.
I lit a red candle and crawled back into bed with a book, but my thoughts are elsewhere as it rains and flows and soaks.
Something is amiss when it pours in the month of hearts…
690 Saint Paul 