Pocket Storms

From my view on the hill,
There is a valley between me
And the neighbors.

The air is thick and humid,
With that something’s coming feel.
I can see the rain on the opposite hill.

Despite a few stray drops,
I am confident the rainstorm is contained
To the northern folks.

I feel neither luck nor pity;
I do not know how their crops have grown.
All I know is

I am grateful to be dry.