When the rain is falling down, as it
patters on the window, I open up
my blinds, watching streaks of wet swirl and hit
the panes. I sip tea from my little cup.
The flowers are dancing, soaking up rain.
The leaves on the trees are moving, swirling
in the rain. The outside moves, I remain
still, watching the water fall from the thundering
sky. I wear a cardigan, holding my
book, the pages left forgotten as I
peer at the sky. The rain is coming down
harder now, down from the late evening sky.
Outside is wet, I remain dry,
watching this scene unfold before my eyes.
