As the rain rhythmically patters down,
Nostalgic petrichor accumulates in the breeze,
Dewy air touch my eyelids,
And bring forth waves of memories.
Those dark locks,
Those obscure eyes,
That merry laughter,
That genuine smile.
As the rain rhythmically patters down,
It begins to fill up my heart,
Droplets tinged with bittersweet nostalgia bring,
Simultaneous tears and a placid smile,
Memoric Souvenirs they are,
Ironically - Vividly alive.
That accidental friendship,
That shade of laburnum tree,
Sitting side by side,
Fingers entwined.
As the rain rhythmically patters down,
Followed by chorusical rustle of the leaves,
A little droplet of tear trails down,
To the crevice of my lips.
Those innocent giggles,
Pointless Quarrels once a while,
And suddenly - a heart wrenching rupture,
.
Without assurance of a goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers and Echoes
Short StorySome short stories and poems inspired by real events - with a tinge of imagination.
