Endless moments of solitude are the base line for existence
Hiding from the rain in an empty park under a picnic shelter
Watch the clouds move,
Watch the leaves tremble at each other under continuous droplets
The rain surges, pulsing
Heavy fall- light - heavy - light
And spots of sunlight sing vibrant green into the canvas of grey
Two sleek black crows
Iridescently patrol the parking lot
Wetness is a state of being
Wetness is the base line for wild creatures
We fear the rain for we have tamed ourselves
Imprisoned in the illusion that we can or even should keep ourselves dry