is it raining

the round stone
whiteness of your
shoulders, cool
as spring ice
as you throw back
your black hair
and lean out
to see if there
is rain and you
see the blotched
road, the slight
silver trickle
against the light.
like slivers of stars
from last night
falling. yes you
say. stay put, no
need to get up,
it's raining.