Class Assignment: Field Site

there is something poetic about a droplet
hurling its spirit through the stratus to get your attention
poltroon to liquid honesty
grimacefully caper flesh to the yellow bellied underside of an umbrella-ed nature
scapegoated excuses lined in pin-stripped laced fronts and leatherette hand-me-downs
mitigating moist impact
causing it to ricochet
misfire to the cloak of another
whoso brazenly accepted that precipitation as their own
however never custom to donning the falsely accused
now parka sheaved 
missed my calling in haste to flee yours
needing for moments no longer kef to your uncertainty
wishing to be saturated in divinity
decisions made
naked, walked down desolate street
absorbed in the should be's
...found peace today...