Conversation in the rain

If it hadn’t been raining,

Charlie wouldn’t have been looking out from

under the awning of the rec building in South Park.

I walked up to him to compare forecasts

and he decided to share half of my tiny umbrella,

for several blocks –

not that it would do much good.

He’s a man a full generation older

and he steps lively in his thoughts.

And with our shoes quickly filling

as puddles filled sidewalks

and the surrounding lawns squished,

we walked with our ears occasionally close

half underneath my inadequate umbrella.

We hadn’t seen each other for awhile

and we each inquired about the other’s health

and then Charlie wanted to ask me about

a quote about existentialism

from a man named Krutch.

We paused under an awning at Footprints

so that he could consult a note from his shirt pocket.

Then we stepped out into the rain

and after some thought and more raindrops

I essentially had to agree:

Nature outside ourselves cannot be man’s source of meaning.

An existentialist must find meaning within.

Charlie said to me then that Wordsworth

was therefore refuted.

And after each of us jumped a couple of

gushing gutters he said

that then here was what Wordsworth had to say.

And he quoted me line after line

of a poem

for roughly a city block,

as we ducked under dripping tree branches

and splashed.

And when we turned at the light,

I had to admit then as well

that Wordsworth really wasn’t wrong.

Charlie laughed.

We were well soaked below our knees

and the rest of us was reasonably damp.

We parted at the corner of 17^th and New Hampshire,

each to change into drier clothes.

If it hadn’t been raining,

I wouldn’t have gotten wet.