It is always the same time every year when things start seeming the same.
When days ripple by like small reflections of the past.
The rain is steady.
There were times that sound wouldn't stop for days, and all the world was washed.
New to the eyes.
Crisp clear visions can form, and one feels relieved of the past.
But it is just that seconds ago, weeks, years, dreams ago when things were simple.
When the meanings themselves were simple.
I just want to sit outside where I feel closer to these memories.
The rain soaks me as it has times before.
Drenching my hair and I am showered.
My clothes damp and clingy.
The weather has so much to offer the soul.
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And I am here with my shadow.
Chasing it in circles on the page with words I have thought a million times.
In spaces I have filled with vague description and light.
Chasing down my thoughts with a pen.
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