9/25/09 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections

Noodles Stay in the Strainer

From the protection of the roof’s overhang
I stand waiting for the rain to let up,
but my hectic schedule and the rain’s
are on different timetables.

Somewhere between the store and my car
the accumulation of wetness
reaches the point where my shoulders drop
from their guarded state to acceptance.

My feet stop as my head tips rain
down the slippery slide of my face
to my shirt now completely soaking
while other shoppers scurry by.

They shake rain from their hair
in disbelief as I completely surrender
my grocery bags in uplifted hands,
a helicopter between parked cars.

A dry child in the next car,
her Nuk and eyebrows raising,
already possesses enough knowledge
to see I’m slipping through.

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