Piercing through the fog,
My senses slowly return,
To the sound of rain.
Eagerly waiting,
Behind cloudy horizons,
There is a warm sun.
Rain falls like curtains,
Denoting end of the play,
Yet I cry, “Encore!”
Road becomes muddy,
Though my sandals are ruined,
Flowers are happy.
Exhaustion sets in,
The bench is damp, as am I,
My sigh becomes rain.
Discarded Recollections 