Through the morning clouds they fall,

These tiny cannon balls.

They hit the ground and puddle and muddle the noises with a huddled pitter patter sound.

I wrack my brain for the sky water's name and the name that it claims is a simple one: Rain.

I remember the rain.

The sky would cry, then the rainbow came.

A wonder of color, but now the sky lies plain.

For years,

The same dull gray.

No rain has fallen.

Have the clouds been drained?


I regain myself from my thoughts

I was staring out the window and looking for rain drops

I don't remember much but I have still not forgot

The times we had together and the umbrella that you brought.


I stop

I remember the rain

The water running down on the window of the train.

Your name is on the back of this frame.

I hold your picture close so I don't forget the rain.

This poem is about: 


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