Individual drops aren’t harmful,
  instead playful,
but when it starts to pour,
the droplets converge as one, mighty, rushing river.

Watching the river carve its path from above,
he was blocking out all other distractions in the world.

Except when the river lit up in a flash --
and pulled him out of his deep trance in which he had lost himself.

The thunder rumbled in the distance,
and he felt a fleeting sense of concern;
he was perched on a roof in the middle of nowhere by himself,
but he was content watching the show before him, with the sounds, lights, and the girl.

That girl from high school which he had fallen deeply in love with.
That girl who was a year younger than him and therefore, a grade behind.
That girl who had loved to dance in the rain.
That girl is no longer here.

Her name was Flo.