Some people feel the rain, others just get wet.
You always carry an umbrella,
and I wear a hoodie.
When it pours it down
we come close together.
A solar flare lashes out, and reaches,
but dissipates into space.
She laughed when he said
he wished he was black,
so he could wear a white t-shirt
and enjoy the contrast.
It falls over our car like glitter in the night
as we speed along. Inside
I fidget with the radio signal as you
grip the wheel white-knuckle-tight.
A static tv channel, then the news.
"Is it better to be too dry or too wet?"
The best part of the trip to the desert
was the brightness of the Milky Way.