Still in the Rain
Have you ever seen
someone stand in the rain
like they belonged to it?
Not running,
not dancing,
not even shivering —
just there.
A statue
soaked in sorrow,
or maybe
freedom.
The water doesn't ask questions.
It just falls.
And they let it.
Maybe they're waiting
for someone who never came.
Maybe the sky is the only one
still touching them.
Their clothes cling like memory.
Their eyes don’t blink.
The wind moves past
but they don’t.
And you wonder —
Are they mad?
Or are they
more sane
than all of us
who keep running
for shelter?