a sprinkle of drops
at the end
of walk

to cleanse face
of exhaust

to dissolve sweat
to remind
me

day’s not all
sun,

and from a bit
of rain..

i need not
run.

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it’s a perfectly
practical
day,

and i’m in danger
of dreaming
it away
,

but shower won’t
be scoured,

supper will not
prep,

the fields will not get
get ploughed,

with head firmly
planted in
cloud..

seems it’s up
here
yet.

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wounded in warring
of weathers –

ignoring the
geyser

focusing on patch
much drier,

the hiss makes
it hard to
think,

and maybe that ain’t
a bad thing
..

when armor’s
chinked.

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