An illustration was added to one copy at ACen 2005. There is also a small amount of exposition on the thought process behind the poem where it's posted on my personal poetry page, if you're curious.

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Dedicated, very belatedly, to Fred and Sarah's happy future, as well as Mrs. Phaedrus's continued health (it's a pretty long poem, I figure I can get away with two).

A record of the simple passions of a human heart in the rain, to be read to the tune of nothing in particular, save for the sound of a wandering mind and the touch of a cold, gray day from years past.

Rainy Day Kimiko
by: Jon Keim (J. Random)
began 12/19/2001
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A glance out the back door

Great gray billows have made light flee
and sun surrender it's dignity.
And this trip home, the sidewalks boast
will make her muddier than most.

"Such a joy"

As her shift ends the leaves are still,
the world outside holds latent chill.
Pull up her hair, slip on her coat,
"I'm going to need a freaking boat,

"just to make it home"

While waitress worked the storm would rage
and lightning flash across the stage
set by the windows of the store;
the thunder crashed and shook the floor.

"It's pretty from here"

Wind lashed madly against the panes,
an imitated typhoon's rains.
These days were slow as a general rule.
She'd watched from perched atop a stool.

Sipping hot cocoa

The lunchtime crowd found other retreats,
ignoring their vacant and un-paying seats.
Her shift was uncharacteristically dead.
"There goes my chance at being fed."

"At least work is over now"

When wind had left the water stayed,
and now on ethereal currents played,
with passers-by a mischievous game,
their huddled warmth it sought to claim.

"I have to walk home through THIS?"

Between the towers, skies hung low
in mist-enshrouded Tokyo,
set to the symphony sublime
of chills played up and down her spine.

"Boy it's cold"

Hands in her pockets, she shoved them deep,
hoping some feeling therein to keep.
Forgotten there was a perfect prize,
they lit a glow in happy eyes.

"It's my mittens!"

Fuzzy thick yarn slid eagerly on;
the damp and cold were suddenly gone,
and try as they might with their demands,
they could not chill her happy hands.

Ah, the power of fuzzy mittens

But such delight, it would not last;
a car came hastily hurtling past.
A thund'ring roar and off it sped,
a startled puddle jumped and fled.

"Waah! Now I'm all wet!"

Her warmth and heart had both been sunk
worse than before, and off she slunk,
through grayish breezes gently lapping,
a black mood in her heart entrapping.

"This always happen to me, doesn't it?"

Mittens don't work when they're soaked,
she thought it all a cosmic joke.
They'd laugh at her, those skies would dare,
had they not been too cold to care.

"Yeah, it happens to nobody worthless wet little me"

In a building temper squall,
she lent her feet a heavy fall.
But mem'ries hid in liquid's flash:
that puddles, when kicked, produce a splash!

"He he" *sniff* "That was always so much fun"

A splish in one, the next a stomp,
it soon became a happy romp.
Her face now wore a smile's crease,
caught up in years of happy release.

Never a happier girl

She skipped off through the swirling blue,
towards her promised rendezvous.
Ah there's the friend that she was meeting,
but dour look met happy greeting.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"You're wet and cold, your face is blue,
"shiv'ring your whole body through.
"It makes no sense, your smiling face,
"a grinning angel's fall from grace!"

"You've frozen your common sense off, haven't you?"

The first girl winced when hard words connected,
then suddenly realizing, now saw reflected
there in her friend's scowl and in her bearing
hid the rainy-day mood she was earlier wearing.

Clearly, something had to be done

Her face, it felt a sly grin growing,
her friend would have no way of knowing
the deed she planned 'till it was done;
her heart broke into a mischievous run.

"This'll fix her mood"

The first she leapt, a pouncing cat,
and knocked her shocked companion flat.
The second yelped as mud met girl,
her eyes formed fire, her lips a curl.

"What do you think you're DOING!?!"

"You know you're just BEGGING for your early demise."
But on looking up into innocent eyes,
the second, she sighed, then readied to stand,
and took her friend's bemittened hand.

"Whew, it worked!"

"You're a fool, just so you know."
"Oh, come on you, 'cause that's just low.
"You never used play this way?
"It's best to run on a rainy day!"

*sigh* "You're still an idiot. And you're doing the laundry too"

The puddles jumped all down the street,
scared by four hop-scotching feet.
Parade of two went splashing on
remem'bring days they'd long thought gone.

Dirty and laughing





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Bet you folks didn't expect to hear from *me* again very soon, did you? Well, I'm still not really keeping up on forum events; no time y'see. But I figured I was *soooo close* to finishing this piece that I ought to just complete it and get it posted. Gomen for not reading more poetry threads, especially with all the filk and such that's flying around lately. Just too much to do, and I'm too damn slow to do it, besides. Oh well.

Hmmm. When I started writing this poem it was *supposed* to be a very melancholy piece about Kimiko wandering the streets of MegaTokyo on a cold and rainy day, thinking sad and miserable thoughts as she is wont to do. I wonder what happened... I suppose it's probably penance for the last couple (rather depressing) poems I posted...

...ph33r the warm fuzzies.

Finally, Piro, could you please do an art day sometime with Kimiko, bemittened, splashing in puddles? ^_^ Asako would do too, though, if you think that the kawaii generated by a happy Kimiko in mittens would be too dangerous. ^___^ (It should be noted that I personally ph33r n0 k4w411. Do your worst!)

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