204800
From the moment I stepped
Outside for another short
Trip to the dumpster,
I said to myself,
“Agh, it’s raining?!
It’s not that bad though.
Ah! Raindrops at Royal Crescent.”
The temp was cool but comfortable.
The rain drizzled ever so lightly,
As I walked underneath
The amber path
Of parking lot lights.
Rain water streamed towards
The storm drains
Cascading into the underworld.
The rhythm of traffic has
Been lowered to
A more mellow tone.
It’s been much quieter
Since the start of the quarantine.
As I approach the dumpster
The raindrops seem to whisper
Amongst themselves as they
Gently hit the grass and pavement
Watching my every move.
A flash of lightening
Gets my attention as
A rumble of thunder
Heard in the distance
Started getting louder.
It was as if someone had
Told the Heavens I was
Outside past the curfew.
And their reply was
“What are you doing outside?
Get back in the house,
It’s not safe out here right now!”
The rain got heavier,
I quickened my pace,
And just as I got to the
Next to last step
At the opening of the entryway,
It slowed back to a drizzle.
I felt like I was chased
Back into my building
By something other
Than the raindrops but
Not in a bad way though.
I turned to see only my
Damp footprints fade on
The concrete before
I turned the corner to my door.
Greeted once again by
The coziness of my abode,
I kicked off my shoes
At the edge of the carpet,
Draped my damp hoodie
Over the chair and
Sighed in relief.
I laughed at myself
For a moment then I
Sat down and wrote this poem.
Thinking to myself
How crazy but interesting
My experience was on this
Rainy Sunday night.
How poetic.
3/29
