The orphaned rain

First published in Vita Brevis Literature, September 2018

Those dainty droplets running over my windows

and leaving a trail

a residue of pain,

what if the rain feels pain

what if it reminisces of the

long-lost company

the melody of the

wine tingling glasses

getting slowly warmed

near the old fireplace

/that brooding pain/

that silhouette of silence

sitting silently in that warm creaky armchair

next to the old wobbly table

it has scars of time

etched on it

and the time has its impression

tucked neatly in the tattered pages

on the family album

bearing the swirly impression of my thumb

from the last time I took a peek

Yesterday I let that starving alley cat in

and let it warm its puny existence near my legs

sometimes I feel the pain of

those droplets from the

orphaned rain

And my mind ponders

Does it also need a shelter?

–Megha

Photo by Matteo Catanese on Unsplash