Soft Spring Rain

I see the rain tap on the window

lying in bed, the pain radiating

from my hip to my knee--

The chickadees dip and fly-

their nest under the metal lip

of a vent in a our building

The cottonwood trees send messages

covering the air in brown and gold

They too are looking to recreate

As the pain eats into my head

I lie there

wishing I too could fly

on the spring rain--