Downpour

In the same way forever is composed of infinite nows,

A second holds the weight of a droplet

held up for hours, before finally seeping down.

Droplets, little glass domes,

Coalesce into a larger hemisphere,

Enclosing the storm-soaked air

Of vapor and whispers.

A droplet meanders down the pane,

Conversation holds a laminar flow:

Pausing, spreading, following the breeze,

Stories chasing, melding, pooling below.

A drizzle turns to a hurricane in a minute

And in lightning flashes the sky is torn

But in the eye, within the droplet oculus and talk

Leaves

Dewdrops

A quiet exchange, the weight of words

With a hint of petrichor.