Sitting in the verandah,
I watch the rain fall from the grey skies,
Bringing with them the tears that you once shied away from shedding in front of me.
The heat is gentle on this evening,
And my hair hangs loosely –
Dancing locks in the darkening breeze.
Am I guilty of an unforgivable sin?
Your sobs are numbed by the softness of the raindrops,
But I am not too sure if the wound runs deeper than I could ever imagine.
Your eyelashes are wet.
Your tears stain your face.
Your lips tremble;
I should look away,
I should not intrude,
I should turn my face away.
Forgive me for trespassing upon your private grief.
If you like this page and would like to read more of my work, please follow Brindology.