Each drop speckles the window further
and farther down
vying for my attention
whether to the detail
of the fuzzy half colored tree
whose branches droop in the rain
mist, or the perfectly placed lines
on the pavement that keep me
going the straight and narrow.
Or could it be I fail to see
myself dreaming of the gray skies above
that pour down such a spattering
of water only to race away
towards the unknown ground.
It smells like October when it rains
and I feel a chill
Out one side but in another
time I would be coming home
to a canopied bed warm and welcoming
a shelter to those who like to play in the rain.
the sagacious bee 