Mountain Rain

The broad front porch curls around the side of the house; from all angles I am looking at a sea of rooftops. Smoke and mist hover, thin layers on top of thicker clouds, all obscuring the mountains behind. On top of this hill in this big old house, I feel the deep chill and watch rain pound its million fists down on every surface. The velocity of it sprays me too, leaves its fingerprints.