Puddles of Grace


It’s raining
and I can’t see out.
The window is foggy and cold to the touch,
the smoke is thick inside,
stifling bacon.

I need to breathe.
Fresh breath across the sky,
wipe the fog away and clear a spot to see.

A glimpse of yellow
shining out of the grey.
Joy in the rain, joy on its way,
will you find me?
You always find me.

It’s raining
and the doorbell rings,
text message embrace.

I love the way
you laugh with me
and you splash with me.
What else would our newest disaster be
but another puddle of grace?

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