So I've been falling behind. What a surprise! Here's another crack at a poem
I remember that rainy April day
we took shelter under tall pine trees
each minute turned into a year and we vowed
to grow good lives and harvest sweet fruit.
Above the sky vomited out clouds
and the wind tried to scratch our hearts
but our imaginations only grew
as we shouted above the crack of thunder
that we would build lives sturdy and strong.
We drew plans in our minds,
sketched outlines of rooms
where good intentions blossomed
into beautiful children that grew
tall as plants, mothered by the sun.