Gray and blue umbrellas navigate their way through vast crowds,
huffing loudly as they push past others.
Mumbling something about being late and the "stupid rain.”

They don't notice the reticent melody tapping on their umbrellas.

Waiting cars honk impatiently.
Creating a never ending symphony,
the director, a traffic light.
Their wipers fly back and forth aggressively,
As if they could wipe away the storming clouds
or honk away the endless drone of rain.

They don't notice the way their headlights light the darkening city.

Office building draw their blinds tightly,
for who can bare looking out upon gray skies and gray buildings?
they hold their noses high,
for they are much more important than another lousy day.

They don't spend enough time to notice the beauty of the drizzling rain

The subways groan and rattle.
Trails of rain water cover the waiting platforms,
everyone has places to be,
they stand with their heads down, waiting.
The subway doors can't creak open fast enough.

They don't spend enough time to look up, to slow down

In the heart of it all,
there was one small girl who danced to the beat of the rain.
She spun round and round,
her small head tilted up to the sky.
Her new yellow rain jacket slick with rain,
her hair dripping with the tears of the clouds.