i.

Do you remember rain as a child? How we willingly
Let the pitter-patter pepper us -
Spots of transparency
Bleeding into our little white singlets?

Looking up even though we knew they'd hit
But not hurt.

We cupped our hands into a lousy bowl.
It seemed a pretty good idea then.
Pressing them tightly together in vain,
we watched rain silver through our casual fingers.

Our concentration always fizzled out
Before the rain finally did. Renewal
For free. We were well-acquainted
With hope, weren't we?

          ii.

Yesterday, it rained again.
Now we know nothing remains in us
To be saved. A rusty mooncake box,
A cigarette butt. Clunky spare parts
Knocked up in the garage with
Whatever attention they had left
To spare.

And so we ran from judgement.
If we cannot save what is inside,
At least we can salvage a semblance
Of propriety.

A dry shirt on standby

          iii.

Do you remember rain
As a child, bothering

To scan the sky in search of its source;
Our half-open gape, dwarfed

Only by the wonder in our eyes.
Do you remember?

A fearless question
Asked carelessly.

We stumbled
Out of investigation
In a daze

And suddenly,
We were adults.