Sometimes


Sometimes,
when the rain lands just so
on the window pane, I think
of you. The world outside

blurs and I remember when
you brought clarity, when
you brought butterflies
and showed me snail trails,
carrying innocence on your fingertips

between the grains of dirt
that you'd dug up to show
me where worms lived,
and you gifted me
with stars

that had fallen from the sky
and gathered in your eyes. Now
you've moved on, gone
to ground in a place
beyond my arms where

I can never follow.
Yet on winter days
the memories will still surface
in raindrops that pool
below the pane.