i love its smell
and its pitter patter
on our metal roof
while i sit here
drinking my coffee
with the front door open
and the windows up.
i remember as a little girl
when Mom would tell me
it was God crying
because he was sad
that we couldn't all
be together yet.
and the thunder was my grandfather,
my mom's dad,
who i never met,
bowling strikes in heaven,
and the lightning
my mom's mom,
who i never met,
taking pictures
because heaven is beautiful,
and that the rainbow
aftewards was His smile
telling me that someday
i would meet my granparents
who died when my mom
was a little girl,
just like me.
