Rain fell
into the role of progressive parent
when deep breathing failed to cease streams of tears marking pathways
down my face.
Instead of saying,
“Hush child, don’t cry,”
She kept my secret tucked in a cloud.
And as her sky fallen droplets
began to make their own streams on my face,
it became unclear which came first:
the tears or the rain.
Or really,
which was which
at all.
Photo credit: Valentin Muller
