Pitter Patter
The pitter patter of a drizzle
Is the drizzle and all the things it touches.
Rinsing this, washing that,
Refreshing those.
It is the drops on my head
And the mist on my lips,
As it is the droplets on a leaf across the yard
And the mist on all the blades of grass.
The rain falls on everything
Without picking or choosing.
Unaware of the difference between me
And the bush at the edge of the wood.
Erasing the difference between me
And the bush at the edge of the wood.
