I have fallen
as the rain on a windswept path
covered in pine needles,
a home to the trodden
underfoot.
I have wept
as the rain in a silent Winter forest,
coating the leaves
and then sliding
slowly.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Drip.
I have frozen
as the rain above a jutting terrace,
forming cloudy icy trails
to the ground
below.