The rain echoed in your head, as you tried to remember what the drizzle sang On that cloudy noon in November.
With its rhythmic tune And endless repetition, It danced its way to your sun roof installation. Staining the back of your mind with images of tear drops, shed by the clouds. For the skies missed your company.
The rain drops, Quietly tapped on the, Glass panes of your apartment; reminding you to use your umbrella.
Their warning useless, Because you never wanted one. Never needed one. Even as the cool shower came rolling through town.
You were there: Umbrellaless.
See, The dreary weather here seemed so... Relaxing.
Well, not to anyone but you..
But it was as if the rain that day, brought a hint of restlessness. The aroma of coffee shops became tempting, like little boy's feet drawn to sidewalks full of puddles.
They teased and tickled your exposed skin, Those parts unsheltered by your favorite grey cotton sweater
The rain left the scent of wet pavements and fallen leaves, lingering on the tip of your nose and top.
It seemed like one of those days: Reading your book; Your body tangled up in the couch; A blanket to warm you; Freshly brewed tea on hand, as the endless chime of drizzling kept you company.
To you, it was the most sensible thing.
The bustle of the city went mute as you walked along the avenues and streets. (Especially without an umbrella.) For where you went, you felt the rain. While others got wet.
And for that brief stroll around the city, slightly damp.
You were lost in the rain. Calm and free.
For the rain was your friend, And you were his.. Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter.