Poetry

Last night I dreamt of you,
waking up in sorrow
from a fitful sleep
while you slowly faded away
like the night
with the beginning of the new day
 
and there was rain pattering down,
with a fresh smell
almost like that of making love
with clouds milling in the sky above
and every now and then
a thunder cracked down
blazing with intense light
 
and I thought that your smell,
the warmth of your body
was still lingering,
was still here with me in the room
and I walked into the cold wet night
to bathe my face and body,
to get my head clear
and still you felt near.