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Rain like a plangent pachinko machine:
Stuttery silver spheres clatter down,
Making endless binary choices
On where to ultimately land.
Each puddle is a family,
Each pool in an upturned bowl's a clan;
A village thrives in a lidless pot,
A city spreads over the parking lot.
Descend, descend,
From sky to tree, to roof and terrace,
To thirsty soil that takes in millions
And feeds the sluggish backyard rill.
A great migration is underway
That ends at a teeming, turbulent ocean.