The Struggle of the Rain

 I like the struggle of the rain.
I like the walk,
I like the ride.
It runs down my lips,
paints my skin with resin.
At first I sped through, trying to escape,
but the cool air saved me,
cycled through my lungs.
My hair clings to my shoulders,
as if I’m losing my roots.
But I smile and shake my head,
I like the struggle of the rain.
I feel the drops course down my neck,
attempt to get under my skin,
and soak my heart.
But I am impervious, try as it might
I don’t melt
I am washed
And refreshed,
Even as I struggle through the rain.
My brakes squeak as I come to a crossroads,
I think I’ll take the one to home.
It seems easier to go straight to the point,
even if sometimes the straight is too narrow.
But I’ll take freedom, even if it is the long way.
After all,
I like the struggle of the rain.
-Elizabeth Fleig

 Photo By: Christina Kinney

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