Oregon Rain
When it down-pours outside,
The streets gushing
With Or-E-gon nature,
The gutters,
Taking gulps of water,
Quenching thirst,
Again and again,
But that sprinkle,
That god awful sprinkle,
The one that tickles the nose,
That rain that doesn’t call
For a jacket,
That doesn’t remind to snag
An umbrella,
Yet you are unpleasantly wet after
A short walk or a bike ride or a run.
The sky must make up its mind,
Rain buckets,
God’s mighty wrath.
Or forget the wet and misery,
A cold dry day never hurt,
Yet month after month,
This wetness,
Dampness never fading,
A condensation so disinterested
With being rain or shine,
Dry or wet,
That it maddens,
We swim through the dreadful wet,
Soak up that damn sprinkling,
Bask in the laughter of the Oregon sky
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