Writing "Rain"

I'm going to write a poem
and title it "Rain"
and describe the cherub puddles
that glimmer afterwards in the sun.

I'll described how rooftops well
with aqueducts' capacity
and how some send stickly streams
dribbling down toward shiny,
off-white linoleum floors.

I'll describe how the young people
dash through the drops
hoping to scatter past
their ensuing wetness,
and how the old people
grit down and lumber
through their sogginess;
stoically accepting.

I'll describe the humid air
fogging the inside of car windows
with such misty poltergeist
that the windshield wipers outside
can only push away the rain,
never reaching the polyping,
dreary clouds within.