Raindrops

Sleepy, rainy morning. Mesmerized by the sounds of water drops - dripping, pouring. Meeting my window. Slow going. Flowing in the same direction. Taking different paths. Relatable almost nothings, from the collective storm. The lucky streamlined to Mother Earth, gladly welcomed home. Others guttered, sputtered, gravitated down and out a spout. with little to no control of the shitty hand that nature dealt. Oh, and me in my cozy, little home. With my petty concerns, complaints, hurt feelings - writing another almost nothing poem. The raindrops on my flowers dry the tear stains down my face. Hard reaching for a silver lining; I'll neglect my garden for a couple of days.