sometimes, we brighten

beneath the canopy of the catalpa plant
we miss the needling rain

standing on a rain scented porch in summer
clothes stuck to warm musk skin

sitting in a well lit room, waiting
while rain does not stop

sometimes, we step outside
of what is convenient

sometimes, we walk outdoors, &
crouch in the open aired rock garden

sometimes, we let the rain soak
our hair, clothing, being

sometimes, we laugh at how
growth happens without our paying attention

sometimes, we brighten when
this joy is too vast, to keep it to our selves
 

words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '15