I took the dogs out for a walk
below silver clouds swirling,
wind lifting the skirts of the trees.
We turned the corner.
The first drop hit my the tip of my nose,
my glasses suddenly more blurry than they usually are
on cataract softened eyes.
I walked with my tongue out,
hoping to taste the sweet liquor.
The dogs looked back at me, slowing their gait.
“You’re not serious are you?
We don’t do rain. Especially rain with lightning and thunder.”
We turned back, under the canopy of oaks.
By the time we climbed the front steps,
it was raining cats and dogs.
The dogs shook.
The cats were hiding somewhere.