Precious Intrusion

Do you hear it
tapping on the night window
ever so discreetly
drawing us into its
rhythm, its rhyme

First rain, spring’s
entrance
I still myself, hold my breath
afraid to frighten away
its precious intrusion

Come to me
without discretion
and we will waltz
my hand in yours
hips pressed against
one another
enveloped in
spring’s holy baptism

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

The first rain of spring came tonight. I love the rain.

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