Roll on the Rain

Roll on the Rain

The air has no soul before a Summer storm.
Clammy and close, it lies like lead
On lungs gasping for release.
Muscles feel like weary wool
Drooping from an old sweater.
And just as warm.

Roll on the rain, to cleanse the air of heat.
Cooling wet drops, to glide like cubes
Of ice, melting as they go.
Sliding down my aching back.
Soothing as honey balm,
And just as sweet.

Remove all the dust from my leather frame.
Revive my cheeks, my pores, and skin
Of hide, cracking in the dry.
Let me feel that moisture's touch
Upon my raging tongue.
Roll on the rain.