THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

Retouch: I Recall.

It’s two o’clock in the morning
And I recall her lying nearby me
In the dark sweating there from our lovemaking
We came together in the long ago
Two lonely bar drunk new best friends
In a town so very far from here
It’s two o’clock in the morning
And I can smell her hair even now with its light perfume
As it was crushed up by my face
Curls so wet, soft and fragrant in the nighttime air
As she drew close in the dim light from a street light
At the corner where rain spattered on the cracked concrete
By the post near the ruts in the road
And the trash lying in the gutter nearby
A soft contented purr coming from deep within her
And we laid there sweating in the dark
Not knowing each other and yet in some way we did
Someway we were kin from mothers never met
Aglow from lovemaking in the middle of the night
And outside we could hear the cars on the rain-swept street
There was no air conditioning in that apartment
One bedroom, a kitchen, and old couch in the front room
And we never knew what we’d find in the hall in the morning
When we opened the door to the world
And we’d step over some drunk lost on his way home
But it’s just two o’clock in the morning
And we hear the stumbling, cursing coming from down the hall
As someone tries a key in the wrong door and then noisily slips to the floor
Too drunk to walk further and sleep claims another lost soul
And I recall the sweetness of her lying nearby
In the dark sweating and so tired we were wrapped together
Exhausted from our lovemaking with only the moon looking on
Peaking in from the window with the cracked glass and weathered frame
And the floor near the bed beneath the open window was wet from the rain
And the moon shining into the room at 2 o’clock in the morning
Was the only witness to our love as we lay there together in the moonlit dark
Too tired to talk, too tired to sleep, and out of beer
A crushed cigarette pack lying in the corner near an empty can
But I recall how we loved that night
And then parted as friends
Each going our separate ways
But I recall that night — I wonder, does she? — Wherever she is?
Does she ever recall at two o’clock in the morning how we loved
How we loved thru that thunder and lightning packed summer storm
And we laid in our passion covered with sweat and out of beer gone hot
As the refrigerator in that apartment didn’t work
But it didn’t matter, not in the passion we shared
And the beer was gone and the cigarette pack was empty on the floor
Bed sheets pulled free and lying in a heap about us
Our bodies naked and gleaming with the wet of love making
In the moonlit dark of night with a street light shining lightly in
Does she recall?
It was two o’clock in the morning and I loved her
Whoever she was — sadly I don’t recall her name.

Copyright Gordon Kuhn