Still Raining... Poem by Glory Sasikala

I can hear the pitter-patter over the tiles
of the small room that houses
the watchman's meager belongings
the plop as a drop fell off my window pane
the gurgling through the pipes overflowing
someone is walking with gumboots
one step at a time
through the water pool that's accumulated
outside my front door
and I can gauge the amount of water
by the sound of water between each step
how long it has rained
by when the chorus of mating frogs begins
Ah, on this dark night
Rain my sole companion
curled up in bed
and from within the comfort of my blankets
I hear the pitter-patter, plops and drops
as it rains all night.