3 - For a Friend Alone at Night

At dusk, the warm of you
diffuse into the cool
collects the waternight in
young leaves’ gifted breath—
The jewels of dew.
And you are limb-heavy with
this weight of untaken
exhalations
languishing in
verdant excess,
left to your own keeping.
But water seeps;
drops from tips of fingers
trickling soilwise to subtle roots
the subterranea of ardor fed
are sipped for arborescence.
You are the littlest rain
that’s fallen to me,
field friend.