The windshield, with its thick glass, double-paned,
shrugs off the streaming water.  In the rain
the view of brick and mortar blurs away,
their rigid lines collapsing into waves
of red and muddy brown.  A thin white shape
walks calmly by, diluting the landscape.
Unfazed, we pull out of the parking space,
the wipers brush the water from the face
of this Accord, and for a moment we 
can see the world with perfect clarity,
but only for a moment.  Rain returns,
and wet and dry continue taking turns.  

The raindrops quicken as we speed ahead.
They try to crack the glass, but splash instead,
their multitude no contest to its might.
A lightning bug, advancing on its flight,
comes into view, is crushed, and spills its blood,
now lost in the rain trickling to the hood.
The wipers instantly brush off the mess,
a moment's casualty as we progress.
Among the countless fallen drops upon
the glass, this goes unnoticed.  We drive on.