East Lansing Rain

by Thomas M. Pender

A true story from my college days . . .

I must be a poet to do this during a storm

                  God, I need to learn to play the guitar

                  And pull it out at times like this

But I lay a blanket by my window

And watch

The headlights the windshield wipers the lightning the thunder

I put on Elton John

And I smile

I hear screams

Happy screams and laughter

I peer into the gray rain

And I see a young man in shorts

Carrying his lover on his back and running

And he slips on the wet grass

They fall

Tumble over one another

And laugh harder

I hear curses

Angry curses and mumbles

I look into the gray rain

And I see a young woman in a wet and wilted dress

Carrying her books and her broken umbrella

And she slips on the wet grass

She falls

And the books scatter and the umbrella flies away

And she rolls on her back

And bursts into laughter

As the rain dances on her face

The rain slows

The rain stops

And the world that existed during the storm is gone

A shame

written by t. michael pender  12/28/86

copyright 1986 T. Michael Pender.  All rights reserved.