Waking to strange sounds

the upstairs neighbour's shower sounds like rain rain in the tropics, heavy drops on a tin roof rippling rattles of bright thuds throbbing through my whole apartment dinning through my tin-roofed head loud, too loud, yet oddly restful conjuring sleep while still preventing it unwelcome noise but impossible to resent a reminder of rain rain in the tropics a reminder of another bed, another time a conversation about rain     A recent jotting, this, perhaps no more than a sketch.  Not quite a poem, but something in that awkward middle ground between poetic prose and notes for a poem.  All the same, I rather like it.  A pure stream-of-consciousness thing: the 'creative process' here, such as it was, consisted simply in suppressing a lot of what might have been included - trying to identify the source of the noise, trying to get back to sleep, the details of the images and memories that came to mind, that final conversation and where it led.  Less is more.