Ice rain

Pass me a cigarette  
and we’ll stand out in the undercover car park    
and watch the hail beat the ground  
like it wants to settle a score    
   
There’s a girl by the vending machine  
crying on the phone  
and a guy with a camera lens  
skimming the ground    
telling me he’s looking for the best light    
to capture the fists of ice  
that have missed the roofing smashing them    
into ice cube pieces    
   
The air is on edge with human anxiety    
phone calls and panic over parked cars    
that might be driving home    
without their windshields tonight    
   
And I want to kiss the rain    
for making me feel alive    
on this day that’s been passing with less glory    
than a day of getting older should    
because a part of me ought to feel proud  
I’ve made it to this number alive    
   
I’ve been walking around    
all dead on the inside    
and you’d never know    
if I didn’t tell you    
   
So close your lips    
and don’t ask me how I’ve been    
just pass me a cigarette    
and we’ll smoke in silence    
watching the hail beat the ground    
like it wants to settle a score    
   
Storms always make me feel alive    
   
© Indie Adams 2013