Watching the Rain

There is something to be said for watching it rain.

When it comes down absent a breeze, it falls in straight lines.

When the falling rain hits a wood rail, the raindrops

pop up and out like staccato notes on a piano.

I watch as water droplets drip

from tree branches and leaves at a steady pace.

Rain meeting rooftop

composes a soothing, muffled patter

that harmonizes with the trickle of rainwater

from out the gutter spout.

I watch as rain drops speckle the window glass

and slip down one at a time to join other drops,

forming clear, fat drops that linger on the window sash

and then drop off

one

by

one

by

one
.

One would think they would all drop at once, but they don't.

Some hang suspended, waiting for the one drop

that will change the balance and impel their release.

Eventually, all the rain that doesn't evaporate

arrives on ground level to create standing water on garden paths 

and walkways

and other low spots.

How peaceful it is to watch March rains

from the dry side of the window panes.

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