It’s just rain

This is my poem, my message to you.

From one drop in a million to another.

It seems like just yesterday we were

running our fingers over unfurnished

window panes,

rough chips of paint catching our 

prints as we go

the glass divided into four, like an

Andy Warhol painting, each raindrop

pattern slightly different.

Seems like just yesterday you 

were calling my name. Gallivanting

through cobbled streets, through

torrential rain.

Flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder tried to warn us, but both in vain.

Seems like just yesterday we were 

getting soaked to the skin, soccer

balls in a bin,

roughhousing it to earn that win.

So caked in mud, despite downpour,

chilled goosebumps rising, grins on

our faces, glistening gems glued to our eyelashes.

Seems like just yesterday we’d

strip off our wet clothes, gingerly

step into the shower and feel the

warmth trickle down our spine.

Hot water coursing through threads

of our hair like an egg cracked on one’s

skull.

Swathes of cotton wrapped luxuriously 

around me.

An oversized sweater, the old, unfashionably

saggy and baggy type.

And shlupping off to the kitchen for

some tea and whatever was hot.

I see it like it was yesterday

and it seems like it was yesterday.

But now, it’s today and 

all life has to offer is mere fragrances

of yesterday.

But sometimes, sometimes I’m lucky.

Sometimes the aroma, the scent is strong

enough to make me wistfully and almost

genuinely believe that it is of today.

Tonight, it’s just rain,

and guess what. I'm content with that.

I'm content it’s just rain.