the rain does not know
greg kosmicki
all the way home spalooshes of rain
slosh and galoosh and splinch around the car
while Briana tickles me
and I tickle her
she thinks we
are just having fun but I
am helping her learn
how to say “Stop”
her 3-year old fingers
barely a presence in my arm pit,
I laugh uproariously
as we drown along in the car
toward home
and when she
says “Stop” I stop
and when I say “Stop”
she stops
but the rain
does not know when to stop
