Sonnet 12

To the Rain God

When I heard the rain last night
I longed to go out to greet it.
Wouldn’t that have been a sight:
me in my sweats, arms out to meet it?

Maybe I would have done a dance, 
a little twirl or two of thankfulness,
for all the gifts the rain god grants:
the beauty pure and fabulous.

In the end, I didn’t go out at all,
I stayed tame and alone in my bed.
I have neighbors I don’t want to appall
when I get a weird notion in my head.

I’m sorry, rain god, if my thanks you seek—
but maybe next time I won’t be so meek.