I like the greyness of the rain on the paper sky... perfect, how you slowly described the paper being stained grey by the rain, the "drying shadow" defacing the beautiful tree of ink and giving it a new permanent form...
I often have a hard time appreciating your poetry but this time, it wasn't the case at all... I believe I felt this in its full. Thanks for sharing with us, Mr. Sites.
Faith is a fine invention
When gentlemen can see
But microscopes are prudent
In an emergency.