Pitter Patter

I don't know how the rain got in.
It slipped past my angled blinds,
Within the tiniest cracks
Betwixt glass and painted sill.
I can hear it on the rooftop,
I think it must be leaking somewhere...
It bounces off pavement and floods the walk.
It keeps the newspaper pages stuck together.

The puddle forming on my floor
Is lemon-flavoured--
Of this I'm sure.
I haven't dared to taste it...
My olfactory works to distinguish
The subtleties of poison.