It should have been raining

When I took your hand and we walked across the stone-littered field
The sky should have oppressed us with air too heavy to stand.
Too thick and humid to breathe. Instead, a breeze sweetened
by new buds brushed the hair from our faces. Exposing us

The velvet you bore, or that bore you, was so much greener
than the grass we slumped across. Such a dark color that somehow
seemed vibrant in contrast to the flora we threw at you. It was unnatural
An artificial brightness flashing through the opaqueness of our eyes.

You were a garden

You grew and grew till there couldn't possibly be anymore room
And you had to be lowered, trimmed, and planted back into the dirt.
Soil freshly tilled, a stone stump sprouted from the earth, flowering
While us, your saplings, stolidly garnered around you

And it rained