Feel the rain,
Dividing the world to parts;
Wet and Dry.

The storm lingers in the hills
Pouring down,
Dampens the gray stones and wills.
As he is carefully walking,
Going down,
Unaware of his own stalking,
There are places just nearby,
Further down,
Where the raindrops can not fly,
And swirling winds can not tug,
Going down,
The cave entered with a shrug.

Gazing out from dry to wet,
Pouring down,
His thoughts return to last met,
Last letters beyond parting,
Glancing down,
The blurred words pull his heart strings.
Remembering of her face,
Spoken sound,
Takes him from this drenching place,
The garden in city park
Walking round,
Together touching till dark.

Then he feels,
Reality comes touching,
Touch of steel;
Blood spilling,
Much too much of final real,
Life flowing.