The days of our past

Sometimes days gone by
will haunt us like a phantom wind
through each new day;
chasing our hair into our faces
blinding us to what is forward
convincing us to peek over our shoulders
half-believing we shall find something there.

Sometimes days gone by
will lighten our hearts
when the new days are laden with clouds
that hang low, heavy with a rain from which
we cannot escape--
Except in that which makes us remember
like an umbrella it will shield you

Your feet may still be soaked in puddles
But sorrow will not drip down your nose.

Author's Note

First new write in a while for me. Trying to focus but I'm afraid I feel a bit rusty. :)