What the Rain Remembers

The rain taps gently—a steady refrain,
Soft as words unspoken, lost in the space between us.
A quiet bridge across this widening rift,
As sorrow seeps in, slow and unseen.

I walk the streets we once called ours,
Each step heavy with the weight of silence.
Memories flicker—half-formed, slipping past,
Blurred in the mist that veils my sight.

How easily laughter once echoed here—
Brothers bound by simple truths.
But now, silence lingers in its place,
A quiet ache I cannot chase.

Beneath this sheltering, solemn sky,
I wish my words could find their way back.
Longing drips with every drop,
Tracing the fractures we have yet to mend.

Yet in the rain’s gentle, unbroken fall,
I cradle hope, bruised but whole.
For family, even in shadow’s embrace,
Is a bond no storm can wash away.