what is the scent after it rains?

tiny hands put pieces together
chartreuse puzzle
cerulean puddle
umbrella in her hand
mom.
too small to reach
this grown-up proves conducive
though i grow taller
idle drops become more forceful
her arm has grown tired.
but his fingers reach out with intent
a firm grasp on this handle
i want to be with him every second of every day
for he shields me
from the progressing storm
yet what do i see?
a piece of sky in your umbrella
excluded from the blather
for what were the words you said this morning?
i seem to have forgotten.
this shield provides shelter for two
and i begin to see my shadow
sodden in my socks
for what were the words you said this morning?
‘i love you.’