The Rain in My Car

There is nothing quite like getting in the car while it rains.

I turn onto the interstate, and set my pace at about 70 mph.

I love the sound of each and every rain drop falling onto my car.

It is loud. So loud in fact, that I cannot hear my radio. 

Nor can I hear my thoughts.

I roll down the windows, and feel the rain hit my skin like a million tiny pinpricks.

I am alive. I can feel. I am okay.

Just when I worry that perhaps I should pull over, as it is raining too hard to see,

I go under the overpass.

For 2 seconds I hear nothing. I feel nothing. 

My separation from my thoughts had allowed my attitude to change.

I am no longer sad. 

Then, I am plunged back out into the peaceful rain.

And I know when I get home, everything will be okay.

This poem is about: 


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