I saw the rain fall sideways,
striking the cello case cruelly.
The case was white and beaten,
weathered and worn.
It was sad to be alone in the rain.
I could almost hear the cello sing
from inside its case,
like a trapped songbird
forced to play the saddest
of songs
for no other reason but
to make others feel as sad as
itself.
I hold my breath and the rain
taps on the case,
tap
tap
tapping noisily
for the cellos attention,
but he does not come out
and play,
and I dont blame him.