young bare feet tiptoe down old wood steps,
counting each one,
one step,
two steps,
three steps,
down, lower and lower
until her soft skin touches cold wet pavement,
listening to her soul music,
a light wet patter
creating the soundtrack of her life
the clocks screech out
the darkest hour is upon us
but she doesn't mind
she is elsewhere
as cold drops land upon her
she takes a breathe
a long deep breathe separates her
from reality and paradise
to herself she whispers
'the rain loves me
i love the rain
the rain is cold
lonely and sad
scared and broken
but it loves me
and i love the rain'