Where is the sun when I stand in the rain?
I search for my glove on the Roses Way
a single cloud, I have no say?
Kept warm and dried by the winds of May.
Or another time
walked up to me, a gurl I had never seen.
She kissed my cheek, a snickering tree
Her dare that I have been
Ma’s neighbor friend, some friend to all
hugged me as she cried.
Later on, a cake, someone’s gift of balm
we both carried in the night.
When I pack my things… worries wander
ponder on that day,
It helps, such place, to return and leave
through the Roses Way.
