| That was the day it rained. She stood, satching the drops Caress her wrinkled skin. Perished was her family, Her books and her garden. Only she was left, Outlived all she had loved. Now she sat in silence. The rain was warm, The air moist. The unbearable dryness was Becoming green and replenished As life. It was enough for her To descend her steps and Submerge herself in the thick Air. Her step was weak and wobbled, But never did she falter or Miss a step. The rain came steady now, Like magic. It dampened her wispy white hair. She looked behind her at the small House which she'd loved so dearly, And had loved in. Then she looked to The woods about her, The narrow dirt drive, Winding away, Overgrown and unused. She inched forward a bit Further, To the bench that offered A seat. That held Memories. She rested upon it, Sitting slowly. She turned her face Up to the sky, Closed her eyes and Smiled. She saw her children, Her husband and All whom she had ever Loved. And in this she knew, As sure as God had brought the rain, That it was time for her to Sleep. |