Rainlight, by which I write these words,
Rain, and my heart leaps awkwardly at the sound of it, at the thought of it, at the approach of it,
Rain smells of childhood and tastes of walking home, and sounds of squeaky shoes,
Anyway, here's that photograph of us,
It's funny, but I see two old friends life will make of us someday,
How that stirs my heart absurdly as I write these words by rainlight.