Amusement Park Rides: Living in the Lines

We pressed our bodies
against the railing and waited.
We were five girls tamed by the line,
cloaked in sunlight.
 
Nearing the end of an hour,
rusted speakers announced
a shift in weather: Thunderclouds
hid in the sky, ready to cancel
the ride. Sorry for the inconvenience.
We broke out like raindrops ourselves,
embracing each cloud that opened.
Our feet tapped the wet cement
in a steady rhythm
as we scattered through the park.
 
Over silver pools on emptying streets,
we laughed in our defeat.
We were enlightened, fresh,
free as translucent drops,
no longer living in the lines.