Reading Time: 2 minutes
I remember
small things,
small awakenings,
tiny moments that
helped me discover
who I was

realized I never quite
lived inside myself
before that summer
when I first saw you

how my hands could touch
the world around me,
that when the breeze
turned cool before a rainstorm
I could feel it

'cause whenever I saw you
it always seemed to rain
at least once

the sky cracking open
with a rush of rain
and lightning and
the sweet, low rumble
of thunder crackling
through the hot clouds
high above

the holes in the road
would fill with water
and the whole place
would become a river

yes, that summer
I tasted the rain
just to think of you

and I noticed how
the warmth of the sun
could caress my skin
'cause it made me
remember your eyes

they were bright blue
like a summer day,
when the clouds
skip along the sky,
pushed by warm winds
and shattered by sunlight

and this one hot, hot day
you took off running
into a field of tall grass
your pale arms stretching
above the wildflowers
and underbrush,
waving a gauzy net
after the white butterflies
that rode the sunbeams

for the first time I felt
my smile touch my face
and fill my cheekbones

what I learned from
that summer
of gazing at you
across picnic tables
is that you can
love somebody
without even
knowing their name
and you can be changed
by someone who
never even touched you

and that you never know
who out there may be sitting,
quietly daydreaming,
while writing poetry
about you



© Naomi Sara 2022, 2023