All summer long, the sky has been filled
To the brim with water
Downpours threatening, but never arriving
Only a thick, smoky humidity through July and August
The sort of weather that makes you wait.
And then came September, and the sky opened.
The still-fertile ground, soaked
Delaying the browning of grass that comes with fall.
I wander the familiar streets of a city I was ready to leave behind
To run from, really
And my feet, my shoes are always soaked with rain.
And so tomorrow I sign a piece of paper
That says okay, I will stay.
But really, it's a love note
To sandy river shores,
To empty beer bottles, full ashtrays,
A bottle of Applejack tucked in my back pocket
To rooftop singalongs that leave me horse
To floodwalls and mayan ruins
To tiny toy tigers on motorcycles and drive-in movie dates
That leave me grinning into my pillow.
I will pack up my books and my birds, my maps and precious scraps
And start this new life off proper
With a high, hopeful heart
And a red silk flower behind my ear.