Inimitably Wet

How gratifying summer rain is!
Spatter-zaps the metal casing
of the air conditioner
like a translucent anarchistic
gremlin army bent on turning

everything into itself – spits like
a nervous gambler on a dicey bet –
inimitably wet – paints the atmosphere
a scary-movie yellow-gray.
I think I’d like it every day.

I thank the sky for its complicity –
indifferent though it be. I am
a funny creature now: I don’t
appear to want much company:
at least, whoever I would see

must be so welcome to the core of me
I’d never think to blink before
inevitably sitting down together.
But blink I do, today, in this
inclement weather – my eyes feel

sympathy with summer rain:
a comfortable pain: a lubricating tear;
the humid air begets a tiny
sense of nearly pleasurable threat:
a bit of sweat. Inimitably wet.

.