And I'm Home

White dress, flowers in her hair, the rain holds off until it becomes merely a fun story for later years, you see lightning in the clouds over Tuscan mountains when everyone else is sleeping. There is food, and wine, and stories of days Before.

Later, when the stone house is quiet, the night black, you lie awake counting mosquitoes and trying to make sense of a life that will not be made sense of. Only a few hours remain until the party begins again, you treasure the moments of solitude when you may digest. And so, perhaps, it goes for life. You'll stitch the pieces together in time.

Your own.