Rainy Days

 


Rainy days remind me of 

Friday afternoons spent in between empty corridors with my (almost) High-School Sweetheart. 

They remind me of secrets shared between two young hearts and the sound of sweet-nothings whispered in between giggles. 

Rainy days remind me of

evenings dancing on a muddy field with my cousins. 

They remind me of the look on my Gogo’s face 

as she stood scolding us for touching her tan couches with our muddy little hands. 

Rainy days remind of freshly roasted maize eaten on her stoep while watching the chickens flee from my uncle’s dogs. 

They remind me of the smell of fresh coffee on Sunday mornings 

while I put on my best dress before I grab my Bible for Sunday Service. 

Rainy days remind me of 

my mother’s tender kiss - 

Of the warmth and sweetness of her love as it traveled down my body in the shape of homemade custard. 

They remind me of nights curled up against her soft skin

as she told me stories about my father. 

How I digested her words, voice, scent - 

They nourished my childhood.


Rainy days remind me of safety and home.

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