The speaker is haunted by one moment: leaving a woman standing in the rain with no one to take her home. The poem never says who she is or exactly why the speaker left, but the memory has not faded. Her voice calling his name and her dripping hair are still vivid to him, and he blames himself for hesitating like a passerby until it was too late. He pushes some of the blame onto "merciless destiny," which suggests he is also trying to excuse himself.
Midway through, he imagines her side of things, picturing her still in that house full of tears, trying to forget him. The repeated line about the rain works like a memory that keeps looping back. By the end, he has stopped fighting it and simply accepts that he can't forget. The mood is quiet, regretful, and heavy with guilt, and the plain, repetitive language makes the regret feel steady and unresolved.