Spring Rain Memories

On these warmer spring nights we rock in our front porch swing hearing rain gurgle through satiated soil, dialects of liquid reflection speaking about our day, past days, future days of love, surrendering to dark spring rain intimacy, but a passing car spraying wet exhausting whines of power reminds me you are no longer here. We speak through smiles of how we would be when we ruled our worlds with less mediocrity, yet sad you are not here to hear what we remember in my head, my body warm against this spring wet breeze. We hear our breaths praising stars hidden beyond dark rain night but resonantly singing soprano arias while we breathe in to sing back and out together, but you are not here, within this future memory of us, failure to appear now as here with me to feel your love more than an echo in my porch swing mind.