Rain

Picked up his coat— And umbrella Not forgetting his hat (Oh! How much he loves it) Dad tiptoed out of the room Looking back; Every single step. What’s he trying to see? Maybe Louise— Or perhaps; me! Where is he even going? (In the rain) I could guess less He was too sullen— To notice I was awake. There was another; I don’t know him. (This strange fellow) All this while; he had been impatiently waiting for dad— “Are you ready yet?” He asked Dad looked back at our house, One more time And nodded a “yes!” He started walking— So swiftly out of sight As though never to return And it was his last