Wednesday, April 8, 2009

The Shelter

It was a hot afternoon and it started to rain
Struggling with the patched raincoat, she ran in vain
Beneath the shelter she adjusted her vision
She welcomed the imposed halt amidst her mission

The shelter spilled water, drops fell on the face
Trickling down like a tear drop leaving its trace
She looked up at the thatched roof, a dry brown
Collecting several pools, waiting to come down

She prepared for the predictable downpour, juggling it
Standing enveloped, taking every space, trying to fit
The shelter was a make shift solace, but comfort she sought
Not money for a fancy umbrella she could’ve bought

The rain stopped to pour, the roof did not
The pool of water, her raincoat fought
She looked up the sky, she wore a smile
She saw the rainbow stretch for a whole mile