I step out to face another day.
Crossing over the mist of drops as
they fall undecidely from the gray sky,
I wonder what you might be doing,
where you are,
who you are.
The chilled air strikes my face repeatedly,
forcing me deeper into my jacket
that isn't nearly warm enough.
Do you like the rain?
Can you relate to it?
I sort of hope so.

I watch the sidewalk as it moves
beneath my steps,
both hesitant yet hurried,
trying to remember my dreams.
What are yours?
Do you have nightmares?
Could I help, if I were with you?
I already want to chase them away.
And I promise you, I will.

When it's three in the morning
and the world of sleep
is as far away as the overseeing stars,
Lying down, I'll pull your head to my stomach
and stroke your hair softly
and whisk away the ghosts haunting
your thoughts.

As I reach the warm shelter of my destination,
my favorite song resounds
through my ear buds,
giving me strength,
and I wonder if you play the piano.
Will you teach me,
on days like these
when November begs
we be left to ourselves
behind closed doors
next to a crackling fireplace?



Class ends early today --
back into the rain.
Whatever you're doing, wherever you are,
whoever you are,
I hope you're doing well.
And I hope we meet soon.