in meek droplets
and unforgiving sheets.
Rarely does it wash
anything clean,
merely adding
another layer
of dirty air,
baking itself
on the roof
of my car,
or on a cheap plastic
backyard chair,
miscreant weeds and
unspoken-for
mounds of dirt.
No,
my rain is
unpredictable
and it takes
a day or two
for its musty
grasp to be
loosened.
It can gray-dampen
a sun filled sky,
sit on my plans
and cruelly,
unceremoniously,
remind me
of my ultimate
helplessness
and finite
abilities.
My rain
comes in memories
of loss, regret
and longing
and even if
I try
to hide indoors,
it is always
rainy season
in there too.
[Written for https://dversepoets.com/2020/06/02/rain/]
