flowers bloom

when gray clouds

like a virus

spreading through

my body

find their place across

the ever moving sky,

I breathe in and

out again—

and when the rain

or a song overdue

falls in notes of

water too fragile

to break upon

the surface of my

upturned hand,

I step forward in

my red rubber rain boots

knowing that I cannot

know

the reason

flowers bloom

in storms.