come in, june

"All grown-ups were once children...but only few of them remember it."
                                                                      Antoine de Saint Exuperry




Come, love, come.  already it is june and the rains have arrived.  the mornings are gray when we wake and they are promising.  more than dew, more than mist, more than.  sunlight is more golden this way, more precious.  we open the windows and part the curtains and the dogs, they try, to find their way in the gray light.  i have come home with a bag of mountain tea, you take a kettle and fill it with water, you put in the leaves.  you take a drink.  and marvel at its smoothness.  the memories of the mountains in the scent.  i have come home with a bag of sunflower seeds.  you open your palms and i pour.  the way sunflower springs in a june of some other time.  meanwhile, it rains, and i take your hand.  Come outside, love, come outside and play.  it is only rainwater and puddles, and here, let me make you a paper boat to sail and travel with me.