A Very Little Rainy Song

I wrote a
very rainy song, still
very little
warm, from waiting
under street lamps, terribly
tall, and I
wrote
a very rainy song, a little
very washed out, a little
brown slush or

love

across 

her cheeks 

and a little cold and 

lost or
dreaming, very possibly
happy, happy
like that, a little,
and I
wrote a very rainy
song, 

for a boy
or a town, for

each, or
none, I wrote, little
by little, I, well
I,
wrote him 

a very rainy song

for growing up 
under the
rains

with me