When I Think of Rain I Think of You
A Poem
When I think of rain I think of you Of you and I with chins in palms and reddening elbows resting on a white painted sill As park joggers trudge clockwise revolutions And steam-windowed buses climb the hill to the boroughs When I think of rain I think of you With every slow crawling carriage window-bead And the churning tepid tea coloured sea Smiling slyly there at the sideways sky And the prospect of being beside you soon When I think of rain I think of you Of every xylophone tiled stomp to the shops Of every shared umbrella park bench huddle And above all- soon- the warmth of home And of how grey days are never grey when I'm with you
