Mountain Showers Poem by Christine K. Trease

We had one more stop, and the clouds overhead were darkening
and rolling in. We pulled up to the locked gate and looked
at each other and laughed, the rain had begun to trickle down.
We made a run for it and barely had the gate unlocked
when the down-pour came. My feet were sliding around in my
flip-flop shoes until I nearly couldn't run. I took them off
and kept going, mud squishing between my toes and coating my feet,
my flip-flops in hand. What drowned rats we were, soaking wet
and laughing hysterically, my mascara running down my face.
At the garage, you pulled me close and put your arms around me.
I felt certain that it was to reassure me that I was still
beautiful in your eyes, runny face and all. At that instant,
when we pulled away and looked at each other, the moment took
an unexpected turn and laughter turned to a kiss. We kissed
passionately, scraping along the rough cinder block wall, rolling
down it as though the lust had mapped out an escape. Soaked to the
bone, our rain-kissed faces and bodies couldn't get enough.
Today, our passion has not faded, yet it still amazes me how
resilient love borne from a summer mountain storm can be.