I hear you tapping on my skylight.
It is past midnight. I start counting your drips, but they drop so quickly I can't count any longer. It is an avalanche of drops. Drip...drip...drip.
You don't come here often, to the city of angels.
But when you do - you make a splash. (pun definitely intended)
And as quickly as you show up - you leave.
You leave my skylight glossy with the after glow of your thumping against it.
You leave me satisfied knowing my car is getting a free car wash ride.
You leave me wanting more of you and your somber melancholic influence.
Oh, to walk in the rain, to slip in a puddle, to be covered with water, to drink the rain, to dance in it, to sleep in it, to wallow, to rejoice, to fill the soil with goodness, to wear rainboots, to hop from one puddle to another, to shake off my raincoat, to leave the umbrella outside, to see the flowers that blosoom when you are gone, to write about you like you were a love story, to write about you like you were a friend with history, to write about you because you are seen, Rain.
To write about you because you are seen.
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In April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling.
Header Art: Daniel Landerman