Unbid rainstorms make animals of us all, seeking shelter, we watch, waiting for the break.
A bright streak splits the sky, a boom, and a squeal, followed by laughs.
The crowd constricts and gathers close.
The electric air invades our lungs, a collective breath withheld.
Nervous chatter and smiling faces, drinking beer, our liquid courage.
The howling wind and pounding rain gives way and quiets.
We the waiting dart for cabs and form a line beneath the bridge — rainy days are cabbie’s friends — and wait again.