Chambered Rain Poem by Brian Sonberg

Let's talk about the rain,
Or the lack there of,
As it seems.

I feel it's my fault.
You see, I've been
Playing Russian roulette
With the car's top down again.

The grey is there,
Even that smell that
Accompanies pre-rain.

But the rain refuses to fall.
Perhaps I should play the lottery.
My luck seems changed
And yet, I still feel tragically misplaced.

The eyes around know it.
Who's that fool in the raincoat,
Top down, praying for rain?

'That's no way to start the rain',
One man said in earnest.
'Go wash your car,
That'll bring it'.

In the end,
I just want life to feel different.
Anything but the same.

Tomorrow's forecast is calling for rain.
Somehow, I doubt I'll feel it.