There is nothing in the air

There is nothing in the air

But rain

No birds negotiate the space

Between drops

Which is at a premium

Even the flies have landed

Spiders crawled into cracks

Snakes slid beneath rocks,

Flowers hang their heads

In sorrow

Collective grief

Worries the fig leaf

Floating in the gutter

Soon to be disgorged

Into the storm drain

Close to overflowing

Inadequately prepared

To prevent

The cataract cascading

Helter-skelter

Down the hill

Unto the sea

The drip-drop of water

Becoming a torrent

In the moment it takes

To step outside

With a raised umbrella

Protecting everything

But the feet

Sodden shoes

Heavy on the calves

Splish-splash

It is like taking a bath

In the street

Without soap

On a rope a dope

Wet through

Baby blue

See through summer dress

Hair a mess

Linen suit clinging

To hunched frames

Finding no sport

In water games

Everybody caught

Ill-prepared

For the downpour

And what is more

No sooner

Has it started

Than it stops.