When I woke this morning
was told it rained…
I looked out
The skies were grey…
I sat in bed sipping
scorching hot coffee
sighed and wished
it was a Sunday…
Such glorious days
should be spent
holding your face
to the breeze,
talking to the sounds of silences
interrupted by
rumbles of thunder…

Along with those gray clouds
my mind wandered…
off to the poem…
The solitary Reaper…
then back again…
to the city I grew to love
of rains and driving through them,
of getting drenched
messed up with melted ice-creams
It was a beautiful day…

Someone thought of me too
I realized...
as my eyes blur