The sky fires a slanting rain in a row,
Like archers shoot a thousand arrows,
The raindrops slide down to and fro,
Some get deflected as it flows.
Sometimes I wonder- is it rain or snow?
Most of the time I refused to know,
Watching the rain at the glass window.
And warmth in the blanket started to glow.
Ismim Putera
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rain-at-the-glass-window/
