13. and when it rains, oh,

for the spirit?
no such cleansing elsewhere.
to walk Gulf-ward between howevermany drops
there are, soaked by some, missed by few -- and
know the happy chill of such touch -- the spirit takes flight
as if heron-taught, and floats
above all hints of things that mar release;

to test the textured changes underfoot
and smile at dry not really far beneath, or
mark the speckled surfaces where heartier plummets
tried for overt permanence impossible with life's tries;

to watch through blurry windshield-eyes as wet makes
dry forget its past (an enviable state for some?)
how much delight its freshness, what dedication to the task
it's got and shared with those of us out in it
prepared or not, with or without amenities of cover...
the rain's unparalleled, unique, enthralling,
never summoned nor sent off by our commands.

what special spirit food!
to miss such feasting ?
what great loss be that.