Even Through the Rain

For a moment

the rain was more like mist

a fog

stretching out across the

tops of trees, and buildings, and

even the top of my mind

—a gray daze of lost thoughts,

a deep, dull, restful mind

I heard myself saying.

Too tired to entertain thoughts.

Slow and slow

watching what perhaps wanted to be

flurries passing by,

listening in a feeling way

to the sounds, my own included.

Searching. 

Listen long enough

and it all sounds like breathing.

Then it was heavy.

Reflecting all the night’s lights,

and whoever I wanted to be but

have not been,

mirrored back to me, in your words.

I’ll come around more often and

I’ll sit alone, still,

even through the rain.