The lady

at the drive-through eatery

has a voice like honey

and a smile like sunshine.

She always processes

our order with elegance 

(although we first have to talk to annoying AI at the speaker box), and with a kind flourish passes our food out the drive-up window to our eager hands; 

"Here you go; be careful now, those fries are hot; enjoy your meal."

Well, one particular day

it was raining lightly

and for some reason

the lady made a walk-up delivery

to a car in the parking lot.

This was when I glimpsed more of her lovely  gracefulness:

after dropping off the food bag at the parked car,

she walked briskly back

to the little food hut.

As she was walking

she quietly and quickly raised

her arms and face to the sky

and the soft rain

and the fresh air--

a brief reprieve

from the small, closed-in

fast food building,

I surmised.

Sitting in my car

at the drive-through window waiting for our food to arrive,

I too took a breath,

watching her,

I too felt the exuberant

embrace of the wintry day.