The rain taps on the parking roof,
a gentle cadence of tired persistence.
I hear silent thoughts,
carried on the wind's whisper,
as the fan creaks its old tune,
a lullaby for weary souls

In the quiet of the drizzle,
I find the echoes of past losses,
they dance softly in the mist,
each drop a memory,
unspoken, yet heard within,
a comfort found in what is gone