What I don’t understand is how

Everyone I like doesn’t care about droughts –

 

Friends will call from cities with bright blue skies 

     and sound nearly giddy with so much hot sun.

 

Or I’ll be making love to someone

     whispering rain in their ear

     and they’ll completely ignore the divining rod

                      that’s my heart.

 

Doesn’t anyone ever wish for puddles anymore?

 

More and more I keep looking up

Beyond myself

      for any little clouds or clues  

      or even more for

What must most surely

      come rolling through

      very soon sometime.