Walking In the a Rain

Walking in the rain I am going out in the gentle summer rain remnants of a storm to feel the drenched cotton fabric of this threadbare shirt cling onto me like a sheath smell the parched earth suck in the season’s first rain Please come with me We will paddle about, cautiously though not to mash too many snails into the grazing lands watch the muddy waters slide along the footpaths where the scum of earth hangs temporarily on the grass to be phased out with time Yesterday’s swelter that cooked up this serving in cumulonimbi pots has been extinguished, savour the coolness as I indulge myself in the sweet brutality of the pure rain, breaking a taboo sogging my dreadlocks in a wash that’s true through and through but if a stray bolt of lightning strikes and the ensuing thunder vibrates under my feet I will stand petrified, vulnerable as a wounded calf with a pounding heart, I will mouth an uncensored prayer I need someone then to stand right by me. Would you feel used, if that someone was you?