windshield rainstorm

Open windows, forgotten

All night in the dewy air -- 

At dawn, tiny droplets on the windshield 

(Obscuring vision, driving blind)

I wipe away at the inside

And am struck by the catastrophe created:

The sheer volume of liquid contained in those many tiny drops 

Formerly a deceptively fine mist

Now giant puddles – lakes – reservoirs on the dashboard 

Nothing to contain them, the water running down the curves of the plastic into vents 

Unlocked, surface tension broken, pouring forth 

Drops growing with each micro collision, each thirsty growth

Careening

Do the drops feel panic? Anxiety at being part of a mob? 

And still, the car in park, static. 

And still, the day just barely dawning.