I lay looking up through the greenish leaves
to the gray clouds splashed over the blue canvas,
leaking water drops that fall and break on my face.
Or, the lucky ones do,
the ones that are not dashed on the green ledges
created of leaves.
The ledges of leaves straining their way
upward and outward toward the sky,
reaching for the life-giving air.
Now the rain has stopped,
but still the paint is wet on the canvas,
and the water, still present in the air,
deciding if it likes falling in drops
or hanging in the clouds.
I wait a bit until bigger drops come
and I take my leave.