A rainy day at the bus stop is the usual scene to me.
It isn't always rainy, but it feels like it.
Grey, cold, and wet often dominates the atmosphere.
Fabric clinging to the chilling skin as time seems to drag on with the developing muck.
Even when the sun is out and the world is filled with natural joy,
I am still stuck at that rainy day.
That silly day dream that turned into a reality.
An umbrella was held over my head,
A gentle voice asks, voice filled with genuine concern.
A minute ticked and we were walking in the rain,
Away from the stop, and away from that scene.
A little warmth in a cold world.
A warmth I never felt before