Speckling drops, of bathwater- lovely evening rain. Patter melodically against my open window frame. The water touches me not, for my roof with gutters and onings. But the dewy breeze saturates my room like my face to an ocean breeze. Mother Waters, send her daughters to my window this spring night singing. Distant puddle patterning ploops, diameters mass expanses on the suburban streets. The trees, the smile as they absorb the moisture their brittle bones need. Oh how I pitied the trees, when the cold stripped and broke their branches my heart grew sorrowful & weak. The deserve to be enveloped, by this unplanned storm. All in the world, would agree when I say that we are blessed with this warm April rain
it was just beautiful last night, from my room that is