I run over fields and woods all day. Under the bed at night I sit, never alone. My tongue hangs out, up and to the rear, waiting to be filled in the morning. What am I?
I drift forever with the current down these long canals they've made.
Tame, yet wild, I run elusive, multitasking to your aid.
Before I came, the world was darker. Colder, sometimes, rougher, true.
But though I might make living easy, I'm good at killing people too.
Only one color, but not one size.
Stuck at the bottom, yet I easily fly.
Present in sun, but not in rain.
Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.
What Am I?