Night

night.

the rain

          drops

                      dance on the roof and window.

Grains of rice spilling off

                       the metalic edge of a steel drum.

The lulling song

                       mixes

with the sound of you and I breathing,

dancing too, under the sheets

to the song of our discovery.

You—this great terrain of mountain.

                        And I–your quiet valley.

~ by Theresa on January 21, 2007.