thunderous clouds
crash overhead
like an angry surf.
a symphony of bubbles
pop on blacktop
while the sun hides.

eyes closed,
face raised skyward
to be cleansed,
I step into pouring rain
blend into the grayscape,
still the urge to run.

they stare at me
safe behind glass
and shake their heads,
afraid to take a chance
they cower
behind what others think.

I plead for a glint of light
but the world doesn't hear
doesn't care where I am.
only the whisper of rain
calms me as I walk,
dripping, clean, alive.


* * * * * * * * * * * * Joni Hendry resides in Calgary, Alberta, Canada and started writing about 8 mos ago. She has recently been accepted for publication in Beginnings and Moondance/Rising Star in future editions.