The first April shower 
comes as a surprise.
We do not expect such beauty 
around these parts.
The dirty air and gray skies 
simply won't have it.
But the speckled windows 
have other praises to sing.
I choose not to hit 
the wiper handle.
"Let the droplets live!" 
I think.
The taillights refract their red glow 
through the globs of windshield water.
The green traffic lights fight for space 
in the red droplets.
Then dancing beads funnel together and 
race up the windshield toward the roof.
Smooth dark trails meander
through minefields of 
colorful pocked explosions.
Beauty in waterdrops.
Southern California rain.