When It Rains I Can Pretend I'm Camping

My house has metal awnings, front and back.

So when it rains, the water has a voice.

I sit beneath them, listen to the clack

And clatter of the droplets. Happy choice

It was, to build them on. All that ribbed steel

Is like a camper's roof. When I was young

And slept up in the bunk on trips, I'd feel

And hear drops inches from me. How I've clung

To memories like these as time has passed.

Now it's just me, my patio, cigars,

A border collie and the great contrast

Twixt grey skies and green yard, and passing cars -

But their noise is drowned out by all the rain's

Metallic noises on the awnings' planes.