A Light Drizzle

Another day
At school with them.
It is warm, humid, hot.
They talk, never stopping like a blazing fresh fire.
I don't mention the packing...

...I'm in a new place, home, school.
Here, I'm invisible.
I move around from group to group of people.
Like the wind.
What have I done?
I sit.
It is raining.

Then they come.
At my door.
Why?
They are drenched.
They drown me with questions.
But I can't hear a thing.

The sun has come out of hiding, and the rain is but a light drizzle.