There is a puddle in the living room;
Evidence of a rainstorm that I slept well through;
Must have been quite the lullaby.

I wonder if I could jump in and go for a swim?
Backstroke across the tiled floor,
From the puddles edge to the culprit window.

Perhaps I could freestyle all the way upstream?
To the bloated clouds above and the sun shining on their backs;
Oh, wouldn’t that be special?