Unsung Rain

I held you in my hands,

cupped you to my face,

drenched myself in your flood,

and hid tears in your presence

                        as a secret we shared.

Your music put me to sleep

and drowned the echo of sorrows

in long nights you rocked me,

showering drops against the pane

—were you begging to be let in?

When you stayed until the morning

washing and making things new,

I’d wake and sing my insensitive song,

frowning, I’d begin…

“Rain, rain go away…"

Even then you would sigh,

contentedly, from heaven;

peering sheepishly from behind clouds

as I wiped the sugars off my mouth

from the fruits that were your labor.

Never did you seek applause of me,

always willing to play sidekick, straight man, to our comedic sun

while I laughed among flowered mornings

that without you

                        would never have been quite so sweet.

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

in Carry on Tuesday and Poets United Poetry Pantry