I Wish It Wasn't Raining

I wish it wasn't raining. Who wants to go out in this mess and cast votes for anonymous candidates? Nobody, but we put on our coats and grab our wallets and head for the door. We open the door and take one step out. Then, as if walking straight into a wall, we stop abruptly above the door jam as one cold stinging drop of rain falls on our noses - and that will be that. The myriad of excuses circulate counterclockwise in our heads and as all becomes clear, we decide on the most judicious one. We step back inside, close the door, and put on a pot of coffee. We sit down to watch it all unfold on CNN; we after all, don't go to sporting events anymore either. As we sit back on a comfortable chair, a shot rings out half a world away. A tan uniform turns red, a cry is muffled by the stifling desert heat and a six year-old girl will never see her daddy again. I wish it wasn't raining.