Darkening sky

Tonight is the
second thunderstorm
in three nights,

unusual for
our mild home,

we keep all the windows open
listening to the downpour
and thunder.

On the bed, we sit
all together in
the fading light
and darkening
sky.

It is a lovely shade
of grey blue.

She clings to the window sill
and her father’s shoulder
feeling the rain
through the screen.

She would like
to be out in it.

She is certainly our daughter.

The rain continues
as we all sing each other
to sleep.
 

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lifespan of a leaf

The leaves begin
so beautifully
green. Hanging from
branches lovingly
and intelligently placed
to do their work.

The colors change.
They hang still,
lovely in their aging.

Then the fall,
at first a delight,
piled and crunching
as we walk
secretly skipping steps
to hit one with a particularly
appetizing crunch.

But then the
rains come and
the leaves loose
their edges,
becoming only
a soggy mush
clinging to my boot.

past lives

a coworker tells me in the midmorning
of her memories of past lives
and I am momentarily speechless.

I have lost a certain normalcy
to my daily life.
The routine is there
but it’s all a beat or two off,
a step behind
and I can’t manage to catch up.

It seems we
are always either
waiting for or
guarding against
the rain.

So many things grow here
I no longer think it wise or necessary
to remember everything.
I have lost my fear of forgetting.
The earth remembers enough for the both of us.