What I Missed

The nattering "I'll-get-him"
and "she-is-so-nice"s
went silent for a moment
last week

I was driving
into and out of a
column of
rain that fell only
here
this wet road a
shadow surrounded by brilliance

Sun shone on
glistening sapphires
drops from that Sunday rain

Streets surrendered
vapor as tires
slurped along wet pavement

Struck by the anomaly
of it all
I rolled down the window

There, beside me all along
wafted the smell of water
and wet dog

How many storms have I missed
while spinning threads of chatter
out of wounds that refuse to close?