Acting like a coward.

Thunderstorms. I like the fury. Lightning. Thunder. Torrential rain. Had it all. In Rome. The day I arrived. Waiting.  At the airport. To catch a flight to Cagliari. I sat down.  On the floor. Leaning against a huge pane glass window. Watching.  As the roof leaked.  A puddle.  A trickle of water approaching.   I’m used to romping in thunderstorms. Do it often. Back at home.  Makes me feel  the kiss of nature.  Water. Water everywhere. Streaming down my face. Dripping off my nose.  But in Rome, I was a coward.  Stood up. Moved out of the way.  To avoid a trickle. Merely to keep my pants dry.  –Jim Broede