The sky offers no warning-
only silence,
the the slow descent of cold drops.and break.

They land without mercy,
one after another,
reminding me
that even the clouds grow heavy
and break.

I don't lift my head.
What would be the point?
The rain knows where to find me.

It seeps into my clothes,
into the spaces I thought I'd sealed.
It fills the pauses in my thoughts,
presses gently on the ache
I keep quiet.

People pass by,
umbrellas raised,
feet quick.
But I stay,
still,
so the sky can finish
what it started.