Sitting in a forgotten greenhouse

Watching the rain fall in sheets against the glass

I can’t help but wonder

How it feels to stand in the storm

 

In my memories

It is always summer

Sticky hot and sickly sweet

Bursting with life in every corner

 

Does anyone still take the time

To step in a metal boat

And row out to the middle of a silent pond?

The water is warm and deep

And will welcome you if you ask

 

I hope that those who’ve taken our place

Reach their hands into the dirt

And let the toadlets jump between their fingers