Look, The Rain Has No Hands

You drift back to books
While a little rain
Stipples the surface

You were studying.
Immediately
Rain comes down harder,

As if calling back
Your full attention.
You give it a frown.

You put the book down—
All those arguments—
And you watch the rain,

But you frown. Childish
World. And as soon as
You’re watching again,

The rain eases off.
How could such a world
Have parented you

Who keeps pretending
It resembles you?
Even in water,

There’s no real likeness,
Especially not
When rain troubles you.