The Rain

The rain comes

    it streaks down the window pane and taps on the roof.

People run

    their muscles flexing and contracting with each extended stride

        like works of art in motion,

            but they all still get wet.

A man crossing the parking lot 

    loses his shoe

        one...two...three steps 

            before he realizes his wet foot.

A man with a beard,

    pale skin in shorts,

        walks casually through the down pour

            carrying his paper bag of goods 

               from the top.

He feels some small giving-way

    and quickly reaches down to hold the bottom

        before the whole thing falls out.

Lightening strikes

    thunder cracks through the sky

        and I duck

            though I am safely inside my car

                and thunder cannot harm me.

And then the rain stops.

Children jump in puddles

        soaking their pants, their shoes

            shouting with joy and full of play

Adults slow their walking

    smiling under their masks

        You can see it in the creases of their eyes.

The air is no longer heavy with moisture

    and the whole earth breathes.