James Babbs writes

When It Rains

sometimes

it sounds like

the heavy beating of drums

and it awakens me

in the middle of the night

I get out of bed and

go over to the window

and in the glow of the streetlight

watch the rain come down

I don’t like driving through the water

even when I know it’s not very deep

sometimes

it’s like the sound of applause

an enthusiastic crowd

in some giant auditorium

I stand up on the stage

alone

gazing at all the faces

wondering if any of them

know who I really am

I don’t like driving through the water

even when I know it’s not very deep

I remember

holding on to her

while listening to the rain

kissing the roof above our heads

our bodies melting into one

and I saw the lightning

flashing at the windows

igniting the room

before the thunder rolled

I don’t like driving through the water

even when I know it’s not very deep

when I was in high school

I remember

they found the body of the man

who drowned inside his car

it happened at night

when he tried crossing the bridge

but the waters of the creek

had risen too far

I don’t like driving through the water

even when I know it’s not very deep

sometimes

when it rains

I stand in the back yard

looking up at the sky

the rain hitting me in the face and

I close my eyes

wishing for another chance

wishing I could turn and disappear

feeling the rain on my skin

Late Rain -- Mike Barr