Back2Maine Poetry (1)

Rain
all afternoon
wet, silent

the cars pass by
wet streets --
barely audible.

I slam the door
with everything I've got:
"I don't want you to be
with anybody else," I weep.
You hold me close, your skin

smells like yesterday,
like 20 years from now -
and I take you as you come:

flawed
perfect - just like
home.

I want to weather February,
August,
to sit together
on a windswept beach
in green lawn chairs
one day far from now
and laugh at our initial doubts -

having persevered the rain,
politics,
the lean days,
the moods.
Still together as the water
sweeps the beach
then retreats,
leaving us alone - together,
hearts full of ancient sands --
looking at each other
looking deeply within,
rings intact; joyous.