My Earliest Memory

I am sitting
Beneath the transparent dome
Of a stroller.
Raindrops splatter fantastically
Like water balloons
Across the surface of the plastic
And roll down the slope
Like teardrops.

Pink crocheted hat
Sweat between toes
Little mouth forming little 'o'�.
The smell of laundry detergent
Tatalising.
The soft patter of the rain
The gentle hum of my mother's voice.

I remember the sensations
The awe
The colours
This is what I feel when it rains.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...