NaPoWriMo - day #2

Watery winter tears fell

on the second of April,

one day short of a cruel joke. 

We drove to the country

stood beside rust-colored fields

below an electric gray sky 

on the backroad to your

parents’ old house

and I felt myself sink a little deeper 

into your the soil of your heart. 

We will never see  each other’s

childhood homes, I said. 

Did that make me feel strange?

You wanted to know.  

No, you are my spring snow storm;

our love, the equinox

that brought me above ground 

for the season. The cold front

will end, we will remain.