Today I drove past the places we had been,
not too long ago,
and no one knew except me,
that the same street I was on today,
was the very one we had ridden our bikes down
that rainy day in June.
I remembered how we had gotten so soaked from the pouring rain,
that our hair dripped in our eyes,
and our shoes squished when we walked,
but we held hands and laughed,
and listened to the band play,
and we were warm and happy.
Today, it is not raining,
my shoes are dry and the sun is shining,
but there is no music
and everything seems cold and empty.
Teardrops replace the raindrops in my eyes,
because I am here, and you are not….
Leona J. Atkinson 11-03-13
(In Remembrance of 10-28-1989)