The Rain On Monday

Written words are the only thing my mind can find ease in.

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40. Vague

There was a girl who walked on the sidewalk across my house, every morning at 11:00 A.M.

I could see her through my window, or even hear her humming when the window was open.

It was late summer and she wore a blue t-shirt that had beautiful pastel patterns sewn into it.

She smiled so brightly.

There was a girl who walked on the sidewalk across my house, everyday at 12:00 P.M.

I could see her through the window only, because the air was too crisp to let inside.

It was late fall and she wore a black jumper that was crocheted beautifully.

She grinned so warmly.

There was a girl who walked on the sidewalk across my house, everyday at 1:00 P.M.

I could hardly see her silhouette through the ice-glazed frost on my window.

It was late winter and she wore an oversized army jacket that must’ve been her father’s.

She stared so emptily.

There was a girl who walked on the sidewalk across my house, every Friday afternoon.

I could see her through my window, but she no longer hummed so it stayed shut.

It was late spring and she wore a dark blue polo that had her school’s logo embroidered in white.

She smiled so vaguely.

 

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