The breeze, caresses me softly,
The birds chirp as they fly back home,
The damp roads reflect the lights,
The air is cold, but gentle,
I stick my head out of the window,
I smell that familiar scent, that nostalgic fragrance,
Of Rain.
They sky is dark, but comforting,
The clouds, an ash-grey hue.

The trees sway to the sound of the sweet melody,
Though they can’t hear it.
The little drops,
Stuck to the handrails fall delicately to the pavement,
The washed clothes left out to dry,
Need to be washed again
The people,
With their colorful umbrellas,
That basically do nothing,
Walk slowly,
For some reason, nobody has anywhere to be.
It’s the brink of a new hour,
And I sit there,
In awe of the rain,
With the melody coursing through my veins.
“I have nowhere to be either.”
That’s what makes it so beautiful.
© D.M Wright