Some days are rainy,
cold and wet, perfect
for holding hands
and for walking in.
Some times you will
dance in puddles,
laugh with me and
let the rain wash you.
Some how your words
can still confound, like
such heavy rain and
low, rumbling thunder.
Some one cannot judge
your distance, counting
wild beasts or southern
states, between silences.
—–
AUDIO FILE:
Pen's Ink 