Rain Came In

Rain came and sat next to me today on the train.

She was still dressed in her winter duds,
a heavy brown coat and woolen boots,
but I knew it was her before I saw her.

She had dripped off of a broken seven track,
slipped underground and decided to take the e train.

I could smell her.

The cool, brisk, natural, moist, fresh
heavy, heady, scent of earthy spring's rebirth followed her,
enfolded her,
as she folded her hands in her lap and hid in her seat.

I inhaled.

She refused to make eye contact.