to catch the rain
one drop at a time
and let them roll around
they feel each finger
and hang on for a moment
and plummet to the ground

and cast aways
not soon forgotten
linger far far too long
and you wonder
was the mistake
in trying, or trying to be gone.

and such are days
when you think of things,
that are far far away
but still so close
you feel their breath
and it touches, it lingers, it stays

and I might have been forgotten
once or twice
or more I'm sure
but I might have left a little something
that ran back
neath closed door.

but what really dies completely
with love
and friends so few
when memories,
and goodbye things
are rain drops clinging still