The rain falls, creating a thin veil.
It clouds my vision,
Making me unsure of what lies before me.
Making my hands and feet grow numb with cold
Until I open my umbrella.


Two ducks sit on a dock.
One looks at the other.
The other stares into the icy water.
They are like two children wondering if they should jump.
Hoping the other will go first.


A drainpipe shoots water from the side of a hill.
Perhaps it thinks it is a waterfall.
Dangerous, even fatal
To a beetle,
Or a forgotten lego-man.


A hill rises before me.
It rises and rises, nearly touching the sky.
I climb to the top
Hoping to touch a passing cloud.
Sometimes I think I can.


Now the soft, slow rain changes
Into hard, fast sleet.
It makes music on my umbrella
As it falls all around me,
But never touches my skin.


By Nicole Bates.

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