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Spring Rain Memories

On these warmer spring nights
we rock in our front porch swing
hearing rain gurgle through satiated soil,
dialects of liquid reflection
speaking about our day,
past days,’
future days of love,
surrendering to dark spring rain intimacy,
but a passing car
spraying wet exhausting whines of power
reminds me you are no longer here.

We speak through smiles
of how we would be
when we ruled our worlds
with less mediocrity,
yet sad you are not here
to hear
what we remember
in my head,
my body warm
against this spring wet breeze.

We hear our breaths
praising stars hidden beyond dark rain night
but resonantly singing soprano arias
while we breathe in to sing back and out together,
but you are not here,
within this future memory of us,
failure to appear
now as here with me
to feel your love
more than an echo in my porch swing mind.

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