What’s that sound—
Water hitting leaves
Dripping to the ground,
sliding down the glass of my window.

The wind is silent.
The only sound are raindrops falling,
the subtle but never-ceasing pitter-patter.
Rain stains my vision:
Blurred green,
Drenched brown,
Bleak white.

They fall,
without sign of stopping.
Is someone crying?
Someone from above?
Teardrops.
Unceasing teardrops.
It rains.

My feet touch the wet cement.
I look up,
feel them falling on my face
dripping off my cheeks
staining my clothes
running through my hair.

And just as I close my eyes,
the rain—
it stops.

These tears,
are they mine?