How They Met
They stood under the bandstand roof
during a downpour pelting acorns,
strangers in dampening air
in the only shelter they could find quickly.
She shivered and clutched herself for warmth.
He took off his coat and spread it on her back.
Rain spumed off the roads. Rain sidewinded,
drenching them to their feverous bones.
Waiting it out was not an option.
Neither was making a mad dash for it.
Being in the headwind was more of the same —
a curtain of rain fell off the bandstand roof.
They would say this was how they met:
shuddering for bodily heat,
conversation whispering rain,
nursing each other afterwards, sharing soup.
He would claim it wasn’t accidental.
She would site the romance was a cloudburst.
The dripping clothes, the shared hot bath,
their storm under blankets, certainly helped.
There was music between them all this time.
Waiting it out had not been an option.