I wrote this poem in the car coming back from Tahoe, it happened to be raining pretty hard so I figured I’d make the best of it.
Raindrops falling like modern art
Onto the windshield of this car
Fallen from grace from way up there
Rotund and plump when in the air
Splattering like bugs into a grill
A silent funeral free of frills
The other drops don’t say goodbye
For they too know that they’ll soon die.