Lightning strikes.

The darkness roars.

Rain patters down

Onto sandy shores.

Your umbrella, the drum.

The rain, the hands,

It makes quiet music

As each drop lands.

Dark puddles splash,

New strangers pass,

Coats are drawn,

Lest they clash.

Grey and grim faces

Reflect in the puddles.

They all walk briskly,

The effect is subtle.

The squelch of boots

In wet muddy ground.

Scolded by parents,

If they're ever found.

Hear them all laugh,

Hear them all cry.

 Parents murmur,

"Please get them dry."

Don't ask who I am,

Ask who I'll be.

The future is bright

As far as I can see.

The air may be gray,

The kids might be stray,

But please let them giggle,

Let them all play.

This weather, so unique

In its very own way.

This weather, though grim

May last only for today.