A Wait for the Bus

it's morning
i glance out of the window as i watch the rain
droplets snake their way down the glass
"Oh great... rain" i sigh in exasperation.
about half an hr later, i take a deep breath as
i walk into the rain, determined not to get wet.
or at least make sure my binder doesn't get wet...
i walk through the puddles in my nice leather heels
"geez, should really buy myself some boots..."
i arrive at the bus stop, umbrella in hand & stand there
i inhale the coolness of dawn's breath... so refreshing...
the sky is gray, a wondrous break from the glaring rose
fingertips of dawn that almost blinds me during mornings.
At first it's silent, as i hear the soft 'patter patter' of
the beautiful tears from the sky landing in the puddles...
drip... drop... drip... drop... a symphony really.
My jaw is locked in an expression of mild awe as i realize
that the beauty of the rain & how it pours in a random pattern.
The wind decides to add to the picture. Throwing the rain around &
forcing it to dance before me. The rain shudders abruptly and
creates sheets... silver sheets of water who's beauty match
those of the quiet ripples of peace's waters Then, when the
wind has had it's fun, it turns against me. when a gust... the
catalyst of many more gusts of wind... tears at my small piece of
synthetic fabric, attempting to wrestling to rip it from my hand.
W/ determination & perseverance, i cling to it as I would for
my dear life. "Mother nature, is that really all you got?"
I crouch down for a while, being 90% covered by the small,
- actually pretty useful- blue umbrella, my savior for the day.
I eventually stand back up a few seconds before the bus arrives.
A victorious smile lays across my face, but nobody notices, do they?