cake and rain

There is a bakery 
behind my school
hidden,
the owner, retired army officer, 
bakes only for pleasure.
I buy bread on the good days
and cake on the bad ones. 

There are only four
months out of a year
where it rains
but for the other eight
i imagine it raining anyway
the drops sliding off glass
bouncing off concrete
melting paper into strips and carrying it away
as if trying to tell me
to surrender my past to the sea.