Rhythms Of The Rain

The rain plays a paradiddle on the roof as the clouds slide down
the throat of the valley like oysters - silent and slippery but very
much alive. It rains everyday here. It rains twice every day. The
sky sits lower too. I can feel it pushing down. It is a ceiling that
I can touch if I stand on my tip-toes. Maybe one day I'll get a
ladder and climb on through it to see what lies beyond.