The Rain Keeps Falling

It’s early morning around my desk, it’s peaceful,

The summer heat still hangs in the air from the night before,

The sound of pouring rain dulls the songs of early birds,

The garden drinks its fill, after several hot days in the sun,

The rain falls harder, and the tin and concrete roof tiles hiss,

The sun has nowhere to go this morning,

Bashfully hiding behind storm clouds,

Perhaps feeling guilty for the previous day’s temperatures,

I sip coffee in the white glow of my screens,

A car hisses past the house, a lone weary driver starting their commute,

I soon hear the engines of other cars kick over in the distance,

The world is waking up, and the rain keeps falling.