On a day when rain surprised me,
pain did too.
You kept rising in our conversation,
and we welcomed you.
I could feel your breathing,

in my breath.
In my consciousness of living,
your death.

Two of us who loved you
spoke your name
and you came.
Surprising rain. 

On a day when rain, from The Patience of Ordinary Things (Amherst Writers & Artists Press, 2003) by Pat Schneider.

It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.
I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?

The Patience of Ordinary Things, from The Weight of Love (Negative Capability Press, 2019) by Pat Schneider.