A Wet Morning
The sound of rain washes away yesterday's noise. Morning doesn't open easily, but today at least seems a day when it's fine to walk slowly. By the time the hand reaching for an umbrella grows used to it, the air is cold and soft. In this hour when everything seems to pause for a moment, we understand each other's slow steps.
Rain
Before the raindrops on the morning window dried, I was sitting on an old wooden bench. Around the time the wet soaked into it, it was such a quiet morning.