Image for the poem Summer Rain

Summer Rain

I loved staring out the windows of my Brooklyn brownstone apartment, watching the sweat on the glass as rain water trickle down and raindrops splashed on the windowsill.  
The swarming sound of splattering water trying to break in seeking safety.  
My home, a sanctuary, because the hard impact on the hot scorching pavement meant certain death.              
Like Japanese Kamikaze suicide bombers angled straight or in whatever direction the wind blows they landed violently against the hot ground and in an instant I saw the souls of dead raindrops transforming into misty ghostly figures transitioning from this world into another. Death in the summer didn't seem so bad for the rain.              
Rain is beautiful at times, especially when the sun sets and the night is filled with lights from buildings windows, neon signs and vehicles Headlights and taillights. The raindrops becomes prisms separating white light into reds, greens and blues. And enhancing other colors creating luminous reflections on wet shiny surfaces. Everything softens when it rains even hardened people.  
But I also saw the tyranny that is rain, beating down on adult human beings as they rush to seek shelter. It has no mercy, I do not believe it even knows what it is to be merciful.
Humans in transports are even more treacherous, mercilessly drenching people standing on the edges of sidewalks. The look of angst and defeat on their faces as if to say "I just can't catch a break."              
But human children are brave to a fault, for in my youth the rain was a great friend who would alway put a big smile on my face, by inviting me outside to play.
I would make boats out of paper and watch them sail away only to be sunken by my pourus friend as it flowed down the street and I would be right there chasing. I would win ever so often aided by my second friend the sun. Amon Ra would chase the rain away allowing my boats to stay afloat. And brighten my day with the splendor of rainbows arching, reaching high above the sky.         
However, I would be befallen with sadness and miss the rain soon after because it made me great lakes of puddled water to splash my feet and dance about in. It was cleansing and thirst quenching. It put out the fires engulfing parts of the earth around us and it offered me freedom of movement in a world where I felt restricted by adults.  
Watching the adults I would smile and say to myself "look at those pussies," as they stayed covered, hiding, as if they were all afraid of my hard hitting friend, summer rain.
Written by thewatcher33
Published | Edited 15th Jul 2023
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