Summer Rain

Summer rain

Summer rain surprised us; a sudden hush,
a laugh, a sprint to the apple tree's thin shade,
where the tree's arms trembled, offering barely enough
to keep the downpour off your shoulders as I sought warmth.

Our faces close, anticipation mirrored in our eyes
“Cold?” you asked, though spring still warmed the ground
you drew me near. Through the leaves, light traces
an innocent dance of shadows on your cheek.

“What if this storm outlasts us?”
“Then let it,” I said, my lips touching yours.
Your jacket, faintly damp against the closing space,
nothing mattered while the world blurred to a foggy haze.