That day, the rain fell briefly outside, the shade of it engulfed the sky and you could breathe it in the air around you. It was fleeting, accompanied by the distant rumble of thunder. How odd a day it was, the desert heat followed you everywhere, clung to your clothes, and entered your mind.

When the rain fell, you did not know. You would know later, but you wouldn't believe it. Later you would think, amidst the tears and disbelief, how strange a day it was. The summer rain, the scorching heat, the promise of heartbreak and loss.

After the rain fell, your tears continued, like a leaky faucet, unable to fully cease. In the silence, realities which had seemed so certain were subsumed by his name, and the date of his death. No, you thought to yourself, if I sleep and wake up tomorrow, this day will be rewritten, he will still live.

That night was so dark, that even with your head turned to the sky and your eyes peering up into the heavens, you could not make out a single star. You remembered the sight of the meteor shower you had watched weeks ago, the brief flickers of light which fell through the atmosphere and were gone for eternity. It was now that those images stayed persistently in your consciousness. It must have been the rain you thought, that took away the stars.

For him, I linger under that benign sky, and shed tears at his quiet slumber.