Poetry Archives

I thought I had forgotten,
 But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
 In a rush of rain.
I remembered a darkened doorway
 Where we stood while the storm swept by,
Thunder gripping the earth
 And lightning scrawled on the sky.
The passing motor busses swayed,
 For the street was a river of rain,
Lashed into little golden waves
 In the lamp light’s stain.
With the wild spring rain and thunder
 My heart was wild and gay;
Your eyes said more to me that night
 Than your lips would ever say. . . .
I thought I had forgotten,
 But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
 In a rush of rain.