Flour on My Sleeve

Last bus pulled off while I tied up my lace.
Bakery lights clicked off behind me; now it's only wet streets and my own pace.
I dig my hand down deep, coins on a folded bill,
That's all I keep.
Count it once, and count it twice; not enough for a cab,
Not enough for the price.
Walk it off,
Walk it slow; 9 more blocks and the rain won't let go.