75/365: gas station in rain

it's raining and the thing to do it seems
is to stand out in it
while the tank fills, pump clicking
gas rushing.

each drop that falls
strikes my hair like a light finger tap -
like someone standing behind me,
perhaps on a stool
tentatively touching here, then there,
unsure.

the other pumpers stand under the roofs
not watching-watching me -
but this is a thoughtful sprinkling
not a downpour.

it is worthy of consideration.