may rain is strangely unpoetic
especially when one is rushing to an appointment
all those fat raindrops
in puddles
splashing up white orchids
it's not even as if it gets you wet
barely does the run-off from an open winter raincoat
reach your trouser leg
than it dries
leaving nothing to fret
come on may try a little harder
I know people are saving for their holidays
and wish you would slip by
unnoticed
but you don't have to give in
The Blue Book
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