Drizzle for morning

[littleprince]

We are walking, love,
amidst gentle showers.

The east coast and many other places
remain wet, hard and chilly
underneath the sky,
clouds and trees,
amber in the spray-
the street lamp of running distance:

time ticking like the tides coming in,
washes out the tears.

The question: How does time seep away sadness?
The rhetoric: That it needs no answer, only intuition.

I reminisce the cold waters,
and ship lit horizon, the arctic cinema,
the warm house party, the toasty sheets,
the 'empty' orchestra, the grimy rock wall
and fondly, the funny strawberry milkshake.

All the rest is transient,
illuminated like the day without sunlight,
the night sans its antimatter,
frosted glass for windows.

My boy, this love peaks our low hills
with the morning dew.
It brings you to my world.
but now we move away,
rolling down the amiable sandy tracks,
into silent journeys
not cognizant where we have been
or where we are headed, alone.

I am going to pause,
weather my emotion and wait
for the ongoing rain
all these while
to finally stop.

L :: 190805 Friday