Overcast, black and gray clouds,
Saturated to the breaking point,
Moisture begins to gently fall.
I just washed my truck,
A small sacrifice for spring flowers.
Intensity has increased,
Raindrops pounding on the awing,
The drum beat of life.
Water flows off the eves,
Splashing on the ground.
Inside it is warm, delightful,
Outside the Rosemary still blooms.
The bees have taken the day off.
At the feeder are Finch,
Finch with a chest of gold.
All other bird traffic is grounded.
The rain has the sky to it’s self.
Rivulet form in the dirt drive,
Causing the ants consternation.
You suppose they have Red Cross?
The lemon tree is full to sagging,
Green foliage, dripping and slick,
Yellow fruit, bending the branches.
Cactus drinking quickly,
The Cow’s Tongue lapping,
This shower will not last.
It begins to lighten in the west.
Drops are fewer now,
The sun peek through.
Timidly at first them more self assured.
Clouds begin to surrender,
Moving out of the way.
I glad I looked outside,
To enjoy this dreary day.
Life, more than existence! 
A lot going on, even on a dreary day, if you take a look.
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Oh the joys of looking!
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Good one, Mel!! 👍
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Thank you, this was written many years ago and I recently found it along with others I will be posting. Thanks for taking your time to comment.
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Pleasure!! Looking forward to other ones too!
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We had this sort of day here yesterday … Love the poem, the minutia of rain.
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Do you love them!
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