Rain

It is best you wake up to it
little dancers on the roof
the spotlight hazy
windowpane highways
in the way of the rain
no sun
no heat
and puddles fill the shadows
or
torrents pound on the rooftop
yanking leaves to the ground
mixing dirt into soup
congragating in potholes
It is best then
when the light leaves
but it is not sad
in the rain
it is humming
and singing
and lulling
no sounds make it though 
except the wind
carrying rain drops 
onto the windowsils
and getting caught in spiderwebs
drops glistening like pearls
on some wealthy ladie's neck
leave me here
in these rainy days
watching the little dancers
slide down the glass