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The First Rainfall

the-first-rainfall

I think one of my favorite things

is that one day in the middle of summer

where it just rains all day.


No,

not the kind of rain where it leaves the earth damp and the skin sticky,

with the smell of petrichor hanging in the air.


No,

this rain pours.

This rain is unforgiving and blessed,

and I love it.


I love how everything just slows down.

I love how the people in the streets tread lightly,

not rushing to escape the blazing heat of the sun

but rather careful to miss the puddles of water at their feet

lest it soak their best footwear.


I love how it gives us a valid reason to be lazy,

to stay in our beds and forsake all responsibilities.

Today, there are no chores to do.

Today, there are no deadlines to meet.

Today, there is no need to rush anything

because the sky forgives everything;

so just for today, you can be powerless and free.


Most of all, I love the way

the first sip of bitter coffee

tastes the sweetest

after you dragged yourself out of bed

in the middle of the day.

How it warms your body

without raging hellfire in your stomach.


Most of all, I love the way that loneliness also seems

to take a step back and lets you be

with a promise of "I'll get you back tomorrow,

so just stay put for today,"

and somehow your body feels lighter,

even if the next day will go back to the same.


And most of all, I love how

this is the first poem I've ever written, clumsy though it may be,

(since who knows how long)

with raindrops hitting our roof in the background

and muted joy singing in the air.

© 2022 Bea Forlales

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