Last night, it rained....at 1:30 a.m. My friend and I sipped coffee watching the pool’s surface break into turquoise splinters.
Last night, I walked through the drive way, holding my breath – in anticipation that my first lungful would be the rich, spicy scent of wet earth.
Last night, there was lightning. Parts of the sky that had earlier been smeared with moonbeam turned pale ochre. And one star stubbornly shone behind a tattered cloud.
Last night, I walked home, looking up at this mad, twisted, exhilarating burst of paean.
Last night, I was wrong about how I thought I loved the rains completely. There was always room for a little more.
Like last night, there was a little room for this morning.