Rain tends to make me nostalgic

I walked home for the last time today – finally.

Treading lightly on dried up worms left over from last night’s rainstorm,

Negotiating the cracks in the pavement as the cold made a half-hearted attempt to chill me.

I didn’t really have time to notice—the birds were irritated, and the sweet brown sparrow in the tangled thorns gave me a look that said: I’ve got my eye on you.

The joke’s on me I sighed, you at least can fly away.

And look at the grass grow,

It looks so much brighter when the skies are that color of gray.