Through one, I watched the dogs observe the rain
That started falling just as we returned
From misting walk to home and hearth again,
For future outings they were unconcerned.

And on the bus another, blurred by fog
Within with rain without, the route by rote
I know, or orientation’d be a slog,
For those with bags strapped underneath their coats.

At night, though salty drops obscure my view
Of audience beyond proscenium,
I see the now-familiar born anew
And to the present ecstasy succumb.

So welcome, showers, to this thirsty clime
You have arrived at an auspicious time.