Its hard to describe
not feeling the rain
when you can hear it inside
and it clangs and it pelts
and it stings
and it bangs,
all around on the glass
with a splash 'gainst the screen;
drips and drops gather
a collection of friends
weekly meetings
monthly sessions
on my window pain

I never thought much of summer,
but I feel every fall
to be tripped up another
and some other time
I should've gone to bed,
or counted the rosary
said a prayer instead

and its an in between,
sad and sweet
recipe
tasteless
and my buds are tampered
its an in between
tangled feet
in the sheets
escapeless--

sooner or sometime
they'll pull them over
but for now
the rain let a bit
and sounds sort of
like a footprint.