We come out after the rain

with caution in our steps.

The dogs move tentatively

like they’re wearing worn-out shoes.

A woman gets close enough

to share her tears, I hug her then

watch my turquoise earring fall

and disappear into tall grass.

I mouth a silent FUCK, still standing

remembering who I did not hold

or reach by phone because

of a lengthy broken connection.

When the rain begins again

we scatter towards our homes.

In this break from isolation

we’d forgotten our umbrellas.