Wet

Bed all morning,
stuttering rain. A car
hisses past, spraying
shoals of water
into green air.

If we stoppered some
in crystal with the light
slanting through, the world beyond
would waver, unsure
whether we laid down together
because of the storm,
or because the storm
filled the world with music---
rolling tympani,
the reedy throats of birds.