It rained today
when you wore your bathrobe on the basketball court
and found it funny that the Mother Superior should wed.
You insisted the nuns gather center court for a snapshot.

It rained today
so hard the smokers huddled under the portico
yell their small talk over the raindrops' roar,
and all late-comers sprint from car to sanctuary.

It rained today
and you forgot for a whole afternoon
to cling like an addict to your cell phone.
When the songlist disintegrated,
you decided not to care.

It rained today
and we rested our faces between photos,
waiting for the flash to charge,
lip gloss never out of arm's reach.

It rained today
and we went climbing under tables in our formal wear
to lock table legs and retrieve earring backs.
We cursed our heels and thanked the Lord
every time a zipper reached its end without protest.

It rained today
and you made a declaration.

It rained today
and you changed your name.

03/17/2008

Posted on 03/17/2008
Copyright © 2025 Lacy D Phillips