The morning after the rain,
when the grass is still
wet and dewy,
I begin wondering if you
will remember me. I
begin wondering if I
can look you squarely
in the eye this morning
as soon as you wake.
Will you notice the new
light in my eyes?
caused by a light early
morning thunderstorm?
For I will surely notice
the change in your step-
how it has quickened and
become predisposed.
I will watch as the rising
wet sun changes your
hair from black to brown
to almost blond with its rays.
But will you recognize
the way I speak- the way
my emotions have changed
the words I say-
and if you do,
would you keep me
from speaking?
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