Rainy Nights

Always on rainy nights

When my candle is blown out

And I am all alone,

I hear strange footsteps fall

Out in the dark and wet—

Footsteps that only come

With the rain, and go with it—

Noisily swashing by

Like the boots of buccaneers,

Or the tread of old sea captains

Tramping on salty decks

Of ships with figureheads,

So old the sea has forgotten

Their names and the ports they sailed from.

Sometimes in soft spring rains

The steps are light and hurried,

Pattering by like children

With little scuffling sounds,

Up and down in the dark

Long corridors of night.

Whose footsteps are they, and why

Do they come and go like that,

And what do they want in the rain?