Walking in the Rain by Seungwoo Lee

It’s raining outside;

water fills the lonely streets, and I hold an umbrella

to keep myself dry, tightening my frail body to evade the

rain drops. Across the road, I see people, scrambling to enter buildings,

frowning as they unfold their wet umbrellas,

as though they are not content with the weather, as though they were happy

when the sun reigned in the sky.

The rain drops pummel the ground, clouding my narrow view.

Eyes misted, I avert my gaze to a nearby window

and see myself, scared and trapped in a square of blurry glass.

I feel something touch my left arm,

so I quickly bring it under the wings of my umbrella,

where everything is safe and dry.

I am worried that I’ll make my clothes wet,

before I reach home. I am coming back from school, and I

remember Ma worrying over the phone.

She doesn’t want me to suffer from a cold.

I think about her, as I climb the endless hill,

fighting the current that follows the

slope of the slanted street.

Then, I see a puddle of water before me, standing

in my way. I want to tell it to move, but I only see a hazy

reflection of an anxious boy, who failed to wash down his frights.

On it, raindrops dance, full of glee, and

I stop to listen to its rhythm, to the flickers of life.

Drop. Drop.

Drop. Drop.

I put down my umbrella.

It’s cold and wet

It feels nice to walk in the rain.