A poem for a rainy morning

The rain this morning is steady, unrelenting. I drink my morning coffee, read the newspaper, and enjoy the pattering of the drops against the window.

I have nothing left to say—I shall lose myself to the rhythm of the rain—and so I share with you this poem by Raymond Carver.

Rain

Woke up this morning with
a terrific urge to lie in bed all day
and read. Fought against it for a minute.

Then looked out the window at the rain.
And gave over. Put myself entirely
in the keep of this rainy morning.

Would I live my life over again?
Make the same unforgiveable mistakes?
Yes, given half a chance. Yes.