To Stop the Rain

By Ana Alonso 

 

To stop the rain,

You open an umbrella.

 

Stand between the storm on a dry patch of pavement. Rub the handle of the umbrella between

sandpaper fingertips. Look outward, at the falling water as it envelops everything around you.

Try not to let the outside splatter on your sneakers.

 

To stop the rain,

You open an umbrella.

 

But why would you ever do that?

 

To stop the different kind of rain, the different kind of storm, that steals steady breathing instead

of soaking school sweaters

 

You step out from the umbrella

And dance in the rain

 

Hug the rushing waters and spin on the puddle-stained sidewalk. Stretch your arms out, watch

them seep with the storm. Feel the rain stain your skin.

 

Smile under sky tears,

Or maybe don’t,

Maybe shout,

 

But to stop this kind of rain,

You release.

 

So let yourself feel. 

Rain on your skin

Storm on your arms

Puddles pressed against sneakers. 

 

To stop the rain,

You open an umbrella.

 

Or

You let go. 

 

Ana Alonso is a student at Kinder HSPVA’s Creative Writing department.

She loves reading, writing, performing poetry, acting, playing guitar, and cuddling her cat!