Columns of raindrops
trailing from the parapet
They skip
and dance
into oblivion
Like faces in the crowd.

I scan
the busy sidewalk
For that one face

Him
Who meant the world
I’ve lost forever

My
Chronicler of pain
Exultations, ecstasy
Melted to the soil.

Faces stare back
Hollow, disconcerted.

Mandira Pattnaik writes in India. Her work has appeared in The Times of India, Editor’s Pick Juggernaut Publishing, Microfiction Monday, Paragraph Planet, FewerThan500 and (Mac) ro (mic).