Rain

The forecast had called for sunshine,
but - as stars often do - the sun
had made last-minute arrangements,
and was unavailable for comment.

Rain, on the other hand,
was only too eager to fill in.
And so it was that I awoke, to
the soft alarm of water on steel roofs.

Not wanting to make this unexpected weather
feel overly unwelcome - though
he does quickly grow tiresome, always
telling the same old jokes and still expecting laughter -

I took a walk with him, and
we enjoyed each others quiet company.
He told me of the places he'd been
since last we'd met.

Though my leather shoes had soaked through
in his presence (he does tend to forget his manners),
I lingered a little longer; after all,
he had made quite a trip.

Briefly I wondered how he was coping
with the jet lag - and if weather patterns
suffered from such maladies -
sleeping over one continent, and waking over another.

The grinding gears of a bus rumbled through me thought,
and with a glance at my dew-flecked watch
I hastily excused myself and gathered my things,
and apologized for rushing off like this.

But he told me not to worry,
Since he'd be back soon enough,
"being the rain and all."
My laughter echoed in the damp silence,
but I was just being polite - I'd heard that one before.