He wasn’t dressed for Rain

He was at a train station.
And it was raining.
He wasn’t dressed for rain,
but he didn’t notice.
There were other distractions
as he waited for a train.
He was getting away,
no turning back.
Leave behind
all he had to
leave behind.
All he had been
all he had seemed.
Leave his home,
his love, his woe.
The decision was his,
to leave, to go.
But it was an
indecisive decision,
painted like
autumn leaves,
which couldn’t make
up their minds,
which season to be.
Eventually he decided,
stood up,
and left the platform.
heading for the
‘way out’ sign.
Leaving a temporary place,
and choosing,
springtime.

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