The Man In The Rain Poem by jason medina

I met a figure on a cold rainy night.
And we had a conversation,
one quite strange.
We then parted ways but he did not leave his name.
He simply said "My boy. I am the man in the rain.

We met on a different day and held a conversation quite the same.
Again he would not leave his name.
He simply said, "My boy. I am the man in the rain.

He informed me he would be going away for quite some time
and he would need someone to care for his home.

I agreed with no refrain
I asked him "Where do you live? "
He said, "My boy. I live in the rain."

...A cold rainy night
I walk the street lights alone
Then a young boy passes by. Possibly headed home.

He dropped something. I pick it up and call to him
He approaches with a shy awe shucks grin.

"I appreciate the gesture" he says. "And so I may thank you properly Sir,
may I have your name? "

I look to him and reply,
"My boy. I am the man in the rain."