Rain
These memories;
Waves that crashed,
drip by drip
collect in my hands. Unspilled,
not yet.
Everyday I see people walking on.
I walk on.
No trail in the sky.
No shadow against the Earth.
I walk on. Waiting
for these memories;
words that were stashed
to fall from my hands as rain
as heavy as ink.
People would stop,
raise their heads
to drink in my memories,
raise their glasses
to sing their own melodies.
Everyday I would see people walking on
I would walk on.
A cloud in the sky.
A part of the sea.
Copyright © Zin Lim | Year Posted 2013
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