The smoke alarm rang out

And I stumbled from bed

Its mean battery on the fritz.

The sun isn’t up,

The coffee maker refused me

So tea it is.

I sit down to read words

Written by a friend

A quarter century ago

And

Like an incantation

A spell

His words

Make it rain.

Making sure it’s not

Just me crying

I glance outside.

The pavement is wet.

Bring on the rain Scott,

I need to be cleansed

In the worst of ways.

My heart is as dry

As a bone.

Now it pours from the sky.

The sound of an audience clapping

From above.

Flamenco time.