Rain, plain old rain
is suddenly a blessing.
No more noises or moans
heard from home sweet home.
Now I am alone to lounge about.
Only the ominous, aluminum drops
are dripping down the sticky handrails.
Students escape to their cars for shelter.
Yesterday's car repairs are next weeks rides from friends.
"One more day, we will call you." the lady lets me know.
If only she knew what one more day meant.
Maybe Monday I'll call her back.
But I'd better wait before,
they rush on my repairs.
I love my Wrangler.
My dad did too.
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