Rainy day. We ran boring errands and then got lunch and went record/book-shopping.
In the car we listened to the new Dean Wareham record on a loop. This song came on twice.
Then we came home and napped with cats as the rain continued to come down. It was all perfect:
You came down in late afternoon, bearing coffee and bags of sweets
That before your knock, I would have found unbearable
Edith Piaf played through the speakers like through a tin can
Predictable for a rainy day but because the first drop remained
We agreed: Perfection
In your face I saw the quietest of grief.
Soft and waiting.
But, also, joy.