Too Much Water

Caught in a downpour, no umbrella in hand,

feels like the heavens are making their stand.

Each drop like a stone, on my skin, the cold bite,

a million small questions fall from the night.

No shelter from nature, just water and sky,

reflecting my thoughts as the puddles run dry.

Here on this corner, soaked through and raw,

what does it matter, when chaos is law?