walked home in the rain last night
after my loved one had gone.
Put on my hood so i wouldn't get my head wet
just the splash of the rain on my face
and the splosh on the leg of my jeans.
Never knew my shoes were that colour wet. It was a darker brown than usual,
they looked like bowler shoes rather than leather Replays.
Made me wonder how things so normal could look so wonderful the next moment.
Saw two girls walking uncovered in the rain
next to the dry of the path under the MRT track.
They were dancing in rain puddles, laughing and singing, dancing in rain puddles.
Wish i felt young enough to dance in rain puddles.
Instead i hide in the shadow of my hood,
under the partial shade of my concrete umbrella.
I am home. The walk is over.
But the memory of laughing in the rain seems so distantly recent.
