His Song, Her Dance Poem, by poetic_person, at My poetic side

There's something in her gaze

There's something about his smile,

Curious like the sea.

They walk down the frosty isle

Because the eaves are too wide

And the July seeps through.

Then, at night

she moans

He sighs;

He sighs his way through the night.

The fluid night

The silent night

In their rented house

Where they slowly wait

For morning,

for a baby boy.

He stumbles, learning

He stumbles, all the way into adulthood

It doesn't rain

But the clouds;

The clouds are full of rain.

And he loves the rain

And so does she.

Remember--

Little by little the drops build up

To what exactly?

The sea perhaps! Or,

Or maybe just a jar.

It's July; It's cold;

The pews are wet like stones.

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