|
Rain, rain , rain |
|
A thousand tiny drops upon the pane |
|
Marching in their millions toward the drain |
|
And whose to say those drops are all the same? |
|
Against the shutters, splash and down they go |
|
Into the Gutters, or to rivers flow |
|
Rain, rainy day |
|
On rooftops or on treetops either way |
|
The curbsides and the creek beds know the way |
|
To turn these drops to streams that flow away |
|
To fill the rivers, bound by banks and shores |
|
Or to the sewer, down the gutter's course |
|
Drawn by weeds in stagnant pools of mud |
|
Or tossed in torrents, agents of the flood |
|
To lay to rest in placid lake |
|
Or raging for a dam to break |
|
Their destiny, eventually, the sea... |