Has The Rain.....

Has the rain gone home
for its dinner?
The sky was a flagstone
weighted with grey.

She held my hand
like a stolen sweet, a secret.
Has the rain, I repeated,
gone home for its dinner?
the way that adults
take the words, still sticky,
from the mouths of their children.

She nodded, and browsed
the sky for my pains.
While the rain
put a fork
through its lips.

From the book Looks Familiar

for Rose