To Cry

Grey clouds.
And warm summer rain.
Remind me
That it's okay to cry.
A few places I go
To embrace my tears
Include.

My old bus stop.
Half a block from
My childhood home.
Leaning on a chain link fence
That surrounds
An old brick school.
Pear trees and grapevines.
Used as a snack bar.
I come here to cry
About old school friends.
And the long summer days
I miss so dearly.

The park down the street
From my grandmother's house.
Used every holiday
To walk off bountiful dinners.
Making room for desserts.
We'd go sledding next door.
The golf course had better hills.
I come here to swing tears
From my face.
Stemming from family problems.
Or old wounds reopened.

The last place I go
Is to the first park I remember
Our families gathering at.
Fourteen trail heads.
Railroad track sixty feet up.
Ledges and cliffsides.
I find path #6
And follow it for awhile.
Maybe around two miles.
There's an old park bench
Off to the side.
I sit on the right and I
SCREEAAMM
This is the place I go
When I'm beyond frustrated.
And I need to angry cry.

These are three places I go
When the air is warm
The rain feels dry.
And I just need to cry.