Pale Hilary Pale Hilary, you who were with me when the rain beat like hammers on the sheet metal rooftop. We lit fires that morning and burned the dry leaves but they smoldered and smoked and were quenched by the rain. We took shelter indoors and watched the lightning. (After you left, in the afternoon, I walked in the forest, and listened for water. Sometimes after a storm I can hear the sound of rain soaking into the ground.) Tender Hilary, you who are always with me. When I close my eyes I imagine you smiling. Sometimes, in the early morning, the sun burns away the morning fog. Sometimes you come over and we eat roasted apricot seeds. Sometimes we read aloud to each other. Sometimes you can be so very quiet. But I don�t mind that. I wait for your words. When they come, they can be wonderful. Back

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws