the morning was dark love. my butt was wet by the first walk. we saw few raindogs. it's always weather. more or less. that kind, often in between, the kind we try to describe. 
mister was walking slowly, pausing often, just looking into the light rain, looking at me, feeling what i'm feeling. and returning he gently went to a girl by the bus stop in an umbrella i thought was wary and gently he touched her hand and she smiled charmed and we all crossed the street. i thought of the different responses to mister, the tall black man whose hand he touched last week who we suddenly realized was blind. somehow i didn't know until mister touched his hand with his nose, that surprise. then i thought how i sometimes get lazy and tired and see the world in black and white, when truly there are so many shades of grey depending on the light.