She walks through the rain,
heading down to the river.
So tall is she the umbrella can’t stop
her long skirt soaking up
rainfall below her knees,
and soon it clings to her limbs uncomfortably.
We watch her go, as she often does so
when her mood gets her down.
But his body’s never there.
Written for F.I.A.F. in 2011, at Multiply