Posted: July 23, 2016 in writing

I miss California rain; warm mist in soft breezes, drumming on the fiberglass porch roof, dark marks on the hood of my sweatshirt, soaked up gleefully by parched earth, rivulets to cement drainage on street corners and ravines. 

I miss Hawaii rain; thick, cold sheeting downpour that steams the hot roads with rolling billows of white under street lamps, slick and juicy over red dirt and green everything else, the only winter the island knows. 

Arkansas rain is natural disasters, swelling bayous, obese river, merciless grey and flooded drainage ditches choking roads. Arkansas rain is groaning thunder and tornado sirens; nature’s discontent. 


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