The wind 
tugs playfully 
at my hair and
the edges of my skirt. 
I'm overcome by 
the smell of rain 
and my whole body
is tingling.
I hear 
the thunder roll
in the distance,
almost like 
the sound of
a drummer
banging out
the starting beat. 
The clouds begin
to fill 
the once empty sky
with a deep indigo hue.
The canvas is set
for a beautiful 
piece of art.
Then,
it finally starts
to rain.

The rain
plops down excitedly
next to my hands 
and starts
to play in my hair.
A sudden flash
and the lightning 
takes a snapshot
of this spectacular moment.
The wind
begins to sing,
and the thunder 
keeps the beat.
I can't help
but fall in love
with this old friend
in front of me.

But as soon as I began
to sing along,
the wind began to quiet, 
as if giving me
my own lonely
solo.
My heart started to ache
as the rain
ran away.
But,
my heart broke
when the thunder
stopped its playing.
The melody 
that had once
been so beautiful,
had grown melancholy.
I sang out
the last notes
in attempt to 
call them back,
but they were gone by then.
Their mother called them home,
but I still wanted to play.
The tingling had grown
into a stinging 
and sharp pain.
My hair laid flat,
and so did my heart.