Monsoon makes me write poetry

Somewhere a man walks through a desert
With sand in the folds in his skin
Looking for water

Somewhere there is a high mountain
With thin, dry air
Eagles cry and soar beneath men who stand and watch them
Aware of the great distance below
Aware of how easy it would be to fall

Somewhere a river is running slowly
Small and tame and green
Hot rocks and smooth stones,
A child floats by on a raft

Somewhere there is a house
Almost rocking in the wind
Above a grey ocean- there are gulls and maybe terns
It is colder than normal for this season

Somewhere, somewhere, I sit at my open window
Sheets of rain fall, the spray fierce on my face
Everything is wet, everywhere, everywhere
Everything is wet.