Rain
January 10th 2008 21:41
When I think about the rain
It makes me still.
I feel alone amongst the drops
In the grey street.
Sometimes the small clear cylinders are so beautiful
That I open my mouth to the sky
So that those magic drops
May be on my tongue.
Perhaps they will pass into me
Shifting my chemical composition
Neuron firings
And twirling double helix.
Then I may begin to trickle down a tree truck
Or sit quietly on a blade of grass.
And in my beauty
I will be pressed into the black earth
By a possum
By a tin can
Or by a child.
It makes me still.
I feel alone amongst the drops
In the grey street.
Sometimes the small clear cylinders are so beautiful
That I open my mouth to the sky
So that those magic drops
May be on my tongue.
Perhaps they will pass into me
Shifting my chemical composition
Neuron firings
And twirling double helix.
Then I may begin to trickle down a tree truck
Or sit quietly on a blade of grass.
And in my beauty
I will be pressed into the black earth
By a possum
By a tin can
Or by a child.
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