Autumn Rain

The heavy weight of a cat

curled on my feet.

The soft breathing I know

exists just past that thin wall,

two small chests rising

and falling,

snoring through sucked thumbs

and the congestion that comes

with Autumn

and childhood.

The window panes

which make a slanted ceiling.

I’m enjoying all this rain, while

it’s warm enough to rain.

You can’t hear snow

pound on glass.

And out this window,

in the morning, we will see

through clear blue to

the lake.

Outside, the wooden archway,

where we hoped in vain

the vines would grow, stands as a mouth

to a hill of aspens.

We made vows under that archway.

Right out this window,

overlooking that lake.

We were so afraid

it would rain.

It was the hottest day in September.