Rainwalker

Striding boldly through the downpour
Your bare arms and shoulders gleam
Blurred, but glistening, under the stream
Swinging with your determined posture
As the torrents wash you clean.

All the grime long stripped away
Loose strands of hair cling to your face
And the drenched T-shirt to your waist
While waterlogged jeans get in the way
But your saunter reveals no haste.

Those huddled beneath building overhangs
Gawk, blown away by your attitude
The casual confidence you exude
Your apparent immunity from the pangs
Of cold that have them in a griping mood.

You are the rainwalker.