Summer Rain

Summer rain

sketches brilliance.

A web of fairytales

enchanted forests.

Pluviophiles

listen to susurrus

and

leap in puddles.

Refreshed like spindrift.

Addicted to love,

shivelight and petrichor.

With her, he was no longer a benchwarmer, a dirt tracker, a shell suit wearer, the twelfth man.

Shadows of human frailty stalk them like night intruders.

As she sleeps, he pries under her eyelids and rummages through her knicker drawer.

She had other lovers,

he didn’t mind.

The dying recall youthful illusions.

An apanthropist and a pantophile could never last.

A summer storm wind ululates the awful mystery of her absence.