Raincoats

After being caught in that cloudburst
walking from the office to my car,
which ruin my suit that I had just gotten from tailors,
I vowed with a resolve ringing in every recess of my heart
to never again be drenched because I had no raincoat.

But that was March when the rainy season
stalked the sky with relentless rage,
my urgency that had echoed as a haunting voice
within the depths of my soul
was not just a footnote in my head since it was now July.

Oh I had so many opportunities for purchasing a cloak,
seeing the sales and reminding myself
how that one storm had cost me a new sets of clothes.

Just were so many more important purchases
when I saw no clouds in the air,
there would always be so much time
before another deluge showered in my life.

How I snickered at the radio when it mentioned
rain was predicted for the night,
we never got such weather this time of year,
driving past the clothing store
seeing that raincoat in the window
and smiling at my prudence to not give into
the climate broadcasts spreading their warnings.

As the first raindrops pelted my windshield that eve
while driving to a banquet dressed in a tuxedo
there was no stress rising in my heart
since I was confident that parking lot would be covered.

Then my engine died and I realized my cell was still at home,
getting out in that downpour to reach a pay phone,
standing so soaked, yet unable to truly be angry
because rage at the face who caused my misery
doesn’t work when it is my own.