Walkers in the Wet

53. 8th August 2021

The sound of rain has texture.

There are multiple sounds of rain. I wish I was a musician

To do justice to it. The tiny whisper of drizzle

Falling vaguely from the sky,

Its weeny droplets wetting you faster than

Brutal stair-rods.

The patter as it strengthens with different notes of hiss

That give you codelike radar of rooves, sheds, concrete,

Motorhomes, stationary cars, trees, bushes, grass…

Each with their own flavour of sound,

Filling a symphony in the dripping night.

I can’t uncode it though a blind person might –

The three-dimensional world unfurled

In sound-around as a bat might know it.

Heralded by their attending waves of wet,

Cars wade through; bikes pass

Whooshing as if they were UFOs;

People tend to plod, though my bare feet are

Surprisingly quiet among the puddles.

Smart cats shelter under cars, stupid ones get wet.