Rain Dance

I woke to purple haze and shifting clouds
wet with perspiration from their long haul eastward.

We knew it for days prior
that the change would commence
with or without our rain dance –
breaking up well-planned tennis matches and picnics at the park.

The anticipation grew
though some secretly held out hope
that the clouds would be just that.
Nothing more.

The little ones cried their children-tears
grieving the loss of outdoor play
balking at the extra layer of clothes the change required.
They could not fathom deeply nourishing baths
to quench our sun-baked surfaces
and wash away the toxic grime
clogging our city-pores.