Rain Poem by Quentin Sands

We walk about bristly in the heat of the day, not knowing when it will happen.
Some watch mere predictions on picture screens before setting out to complete routine tasks;
but who is to say what will happen for the unknown dwells with us.

I see a beautiful lady frisking her hair, wiping prespire from her mascaraed face whilst
pushing a stroller along the busy sidewalk.
A dog sits in the shadow of a street sign; its mouth gaped in a state of exasperation.

Without warning it happens...........the first wave of attack.
An obscure lone dropp comes down and taps you on your shoulders.
You look around feverously...but see no one in view.
An audious rumbling is heard above your head sending everyone in motion.

The downpour occurs and the smell of dampened earth cuts the once humid air;
The ground is filled with myriads of liquid puddles collected in different places.
Those who are armed hold up their array of colorful shields to fend off the heavy invasion,
whilst those who are not, scamper about in astonished utter despair.