a poem not about physics.

whoever first observed the rain
falling lightly to the ground
and called it "sprinkling"--
that person is right with me.

i don't mind the water
that passes through all the leaves
of a 200 year old tree
before landing on top of my head.

i don't mind walking on top of my reflection.

i don't mind getting wet
while listening to a good song.
my toes are cold;
my hair is soaked,
but all i feel is...
my smile.