Meeting at the Holiday Inn for coffee first
Grabbing slickers and our oldest shoes
And some of those fancy water bottles
There’s a chance of rain where we’re going.
Warm and dry inside for our passengers
Wipers swiping and leaves clinging
Tires singing and slinging the water away
The town car is floating but we’re going.
Tightening laces and grabbing for cameras
Tucking Kleenex in our pockets for later
Checking the sky for signs of drying
And we will see where we're going.
Later inside the car, our hands rubbing vigorously
Against fabric of wet jeans and slick vests
Shoes squeaking and we are stripping off wet socks
There’s a warm fire and good wine where we’re going.