Rain Pain

When it rains, I think of pain.  The homeless woman in sandals who wrapped her feet with plastic bags to keep them dry.  Walking through the hail storm in Fort Worth coming back from school.  The dirty rain in New York City where the color of water is Tar.  Walking through the dirty rain in New York City where the color of water is Tar.  The pool of rain that forms inside my classroom from wet feet.  And the putrid odor it leaves behind by the end of the day.  One day when Yohan and I had to go to Costco in the pouring rain that poured sideways, and his umbrella tore apart, flipping inside out. Which was kind of funny, because while this happened, I was waiting for him to fetch the car.  Waking up during the night because the rain knocks riotously at my skylights.  And all I can say is,

Rain,

Rain,

Go Away.