(I had this dream years ago. I was reminded of it today)

I dreamt that it rained.
Down the city street past Kathy's door,
Along the illuminated storefronts.

There was a hum in the chilly air,
in the California Dew, I stopped.
To stand under a lamp post.

'I'm singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feeling...'

Gene Kelly, full of life and melody,
spun around the lamp post,
and kissed my cheek.

A simple figment
lost in a toolshed
oft times tinkled
with broken appliances.  

He manipulated
rusted design
to his fancy,
breathing second life
into misfit *******.

The elusive wisp
dressed in split fingernails
and knotty knuckles,
as lore foretold.

Spellbound, I’m found,
deposited beneath the azure blue sky.
Stripped bare, lying here,
Grieving the crimes of malted Rye.

I have heard your voice many times,
Intimately and distantly.
Never mine and always close
As a whisper in my ear.