by Alice
We ran barefoot through August dust
With blackberry stains on our hands
You laughed and bent the willow switch
And drew wide rivers in the sand
When thunder rolled beyond the hill
We sailed the gutter by the lane
Our paper boats with candle-wax seams
Went tipping softly through the rain
Paper boats in the rain
Two small names in the gray
Yours drifted out of sight
Mine still circles that day
Your porch light glowed through summer dusk
Like honey in a mason jar
We counted fireflies by the fence
And guessed which ones would reach the stars
Your mother called, the screen door sang
We stayed until the night turned blue
Then one July the truck came round
And took the road and took you too
Paper boats in the rain
Two small names in the gray
Yours drifted out of sight
Mine still circles that day
I found one curled in an old shoebox
Soft as a prayer gone thin
The ink had run, but there you were
Folded in every bend
And when the eaves start spilling down
I hear your feet again
Paper boats in the rain
Two small names in the gray
Yours drifted out of sight
Mine still circles that day