when it rains.
it wakes inside me;
a buried past reborn.
up through grass and garden: bubbles
water drops on branches, doubled
in the dampness, last year’s leaves decay.
loamy presence hugs my being;
pheromones, so revealing
when it rains.
I feel myself dissolving,
in the rain, I hear you calling,
when it rains
.
.
.
.
