The only thing raining today is me.
Short spurts of down pours,
cascading across my landscape like Noah's flood
and then suddenly as soon as the storm
cracks a thunderous beginning, it ends.
Residuals stain the cheeks like dry river beds.
I could follow the water to its origin,
up the stream through the airy sky at
the base of the iceberg where it all began.
I don't want to though. I simply know
I am the only thing raining today.