I'm the woman who is the rain

I was the child who danced in the rain,
Unseen and unhinged, it was nothing new.
Jumping in puddles in smelly rubber boots,
Never scolded, never shunned, just warned;
Don't fall sick, always change your clothes.
There were earthworms to dangle on a stick
Tadpoles in ponds to watch for days,
Steamy soup for fingers shriveled and cold.

I was the girl who walked in the rain,
There were others too, giggling and teasing,
Hormones raging, strength in groups.
Long walks around deserted roads,
Wet shirts we were ashamed were clinging
To our growing bodies, fear sometimes
When we grew too bold, flushed cheeks
For strange boys who sat too close.

I was the one who chided lovers,
Dared them to be reckless, hold hands,
Don't be scared, let's go on your bike,
The pellets lashing our eyes, entangled hair,
Always believing foolishly, the water
Would unite us, the cloudy breath create memories, warmth for older days to come.

I'm the woman who is the rain,
I have no one to please, I have nothing to bare.
I don't care if you disapprove of my wet clothes, my messy hair or my clumsy attempts
to make a dash and run, or walk all alone.
I don't mind if you judge me for leaving my kids home.

I'm the woman who is the rain,
I overflow at rigid, cemented corners
I halt and contain under mossy stones.