Sonnet for rain--

the air grows thick and wet and all the sounds
start ling'ring in the atmosphere like smoke
in winter's freeze-- the clouds-- like brash young hearts
that fly across the bed-- now chase-- elope--
the air collapses, folds like crashing cars,
as clouds implode to tiny particles--
how gentle, o how fragile-- all these shards
of stained-glass shattered in the wet wind's swell--
they flick the ground-- they smack my tired face--
they leave their fingerprints across my chest--
a single heart-shaped spot-- near the same place
she left a teardrop last night-- safely pressed
within the chaos of the thunderstorm--
like all the tears on all the shirts we've worn-