Spring 1949

Rain is a reminder of half forgotten feelings
  Of wrong decisions, moments of regret
Rain is full of foolish, wistful thoughts
Of aching wants, of chances that are gone
  And sadnesses I cannot quite forget

What half formed memories touch my heart to tears
  And leave a seeking emptiness to die?
Why does the gentle sibilance of rain
Give new aliveness to a tired earth
  And leave me here alone to cry?