rain

july grows bleak

as rain falls in sheets

and puddles form at feet

of walking strangers.

there's no pattern to it,

just a chaos theory of water

and chaos on the roads

of passing drivers.

it's days like today that the eyes want to stay shut.

to crawl back into bed with two warm bodies and put arms around them,

snuggling, cuddling, scratching, licking, and sleeping.

instead i see the thick, dense falling of rain

and wonder if it causes much pain

to the homeless man who lives near Bermuda Lane

all by himself.

we're all just falling drops of water,

together with millions and billions of other drops,

headed to the ground below, where we puddle together,

wishing we could cuddle together,

and run-off the streets before we ever truly meet one another.