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Imagine Rain, but vague
February 1, 2019
I come out to see,
everything that I missed.
Wonder; What was it called?
The grass I stand on,
constantly itching my feet.
Still; What was it called?
I still see the rain,
pouring down onto the trees.
The rain taps my head.
I come back later.
The smell of the rain.
Smells, familiar.
It feels fantastic,
The freshness of the outdoors.
Yes, I now know it.
I thought, 'what was it'?
That 'it' had the memories
of enjoying life.
© Laura M., Eagan, MN
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Yeah, honestly don't know what to think of this, so I'm putting it here just to see what it gets.