Rain

Looking out the window,
At the softness of the rain,
She sees the sky turn dark grey, 
And journeys down the lane 


An insignificant little drop,
Can signify much more,
A memory of a time, a place,
On which life has shut its door. 


The swishing of the wipers,
Moves the drops away,
And against the pace of modern life,
Her mind begins to stray. 


xx