On holiday


    Forecast says rain all week,


    scattered-brained thunderstorms


    and chance of silky lightning.


    Farmers are rejoicing,


    caught


    in the middle of a rain dance,


    models are bending their straighteners


    in fury,


    school kids are walking


    the sidewalks, backpacks draped


    over their heads like parasols.


    I didn’t come all this way to watch the sky cry.


    Open the doors, toss the umbrella


    like a parachute into the cotton clouds.


    Join me—no time to waste shoveling aside storm,


    looking for sun.


    Learn to love


    the feel of rain.


    Dual helms


    You don’t need to share


    shadows,


    meals,


    hobbies,


    careers,


    money,


    babies,


    games,


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    walks,


    friends,


    dreams,


    fears,


    straws,


    blankets,


    thoughts,


    sights,


    words,


    joy,


    cereal,


    trips,


    photographs,


    smiles,


    sobs,


    pain,


    umbrellas,


    the bed,


    your hand,


    true freedom.


    But I remember the years


    when it all gaped like a cellar


    door, begging to be filled


    with light, another flashlight


    breaking the lonely dark


    of down there.


    I need to share


    shadows,


    meals,


    hobbies,


    careers,


    money,


    babies,


    games,


    walks,


    friends,


    dreams,


    fears,


    straws,


    blankets,


    thoughts,


    sights,


    words,


    joy,


    cereal,


    trips,


    photographs,


    smiles,


    sobs,


    pain,


    umbrellas,


    the bed,


    your hand,


    true freedom.


    I do.