a small price

The deluge is loud enough we thought it would rush down the stairs

Drown the auditorium chairs, backpacks and socks and filing cabinets

Some kind of dramatic, wet flailing end to a day of complications

It only thundered by the door

A door propped wide open, to keep us free

I’m hunting for excuses to get soaked

My hair dries faster than my mind calms

But not my hoodie, peeling text advocating for facing the mirror and liking the reflection

Something I generally ascribe to, except when the sleeves are damp and clinging

Still, a small price to pay to cleanse my worries

Standing in the pouring rain