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