We met in the rain.
I shivered and you offered me your coat,
opening your arms so I could walk in your warmth.
I embraced you.
Huddled close under my meek umbrella you lifted for us,
I held your hand to help steady it against the winds, and
we tiptoed and slipped from puddled shore to puddled shore
while the rain drops filled our socks.
We were going to dry into the sun together.
Pulling tighter against the wind,
as time wore new openings in our coat
and our umbrella’s spindly arms snapped from their embrace:
we had to lift our legs higher
and made the decision to drudge on, still, together.
Hands clasped against hail storms and high floods,
we took our beating and moved on,
passing up individual shelters for
a journey, together, to the…
where were we going?
Up to here in murky waters
and still moving forward,
I kick to keep my head above ground
and looked to you for a sense of direction,
our navigator against grey black rains…
You were a storm chaser,
with dreams of being struck by lightning,
living to tell the tale,
you never learned to swim.