Following along through the view
The rain is a haze itís true.
It seems an artist has blended those
Shapes of trees at a distance to suppose,
Itís so far away they look complete,
In reality away only a few hundred feet.
The trees up closer gently quiver
Accepting the drops, their life giver.
What is that breeze so high and there
Combing through branches like hair?
Are there two worlds, one lofty bound,
And then ours here, on the ground?
No matter, I think Iíll go out
Let the rain touch my skin all about.
Iíll let you know,
If itís cold as snow.