I like it,
when the raindrops
get into the stampede stage
of down pour.
they chorus with the hum of speed.
and they smack with such devotion,
as if to seriously kiss.
wind feels obliged
to get out of the way.
what passion this is
that needs its expression
to say what is so.
I am uplifted,
even as audience.
it's romantic
in a earthbound kind of way.
my reverence is visual dedication,
with a slight scent
of wind uptake occurring.
now ground-worthy evidenced,
as the liquid lateral flow.
this puddling is into mirrors reflecting.
and there is actual fragrance offered my way.
wet speaks another language amongst itself.
it's melodic of a different kind.
it's water colors applied,
with transparent shades
to be interpreted as,
everything is coated with anew.
environments do embrace
when they meet.
they romance upon arriving.
one is a regular,
while the other is an outlier.
but they do get along.
they seem to know each other
from a distant past.
I am just here
for the richness of the hearsay.
their meetings take place almost anywhere.
some more reserved than others.
but genuinely I am excited to be here,
when they meet in this way.
it changes my whole outlook on the day.
so when these friends meet,
even if they are not friends of mine,
necessarily.
just in their shared presence,
this totally alters mine . . .
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