What I Saw in the Warm Rain

The pristine moves me

So much less than it dared to before,

Laying me trembling ‘pon the speckled floor

Of summer, and all it affords.

 

So it lies

The cloud graphite with rain

That little but a few heavy drops

In the salty dust distorts.

 

Thunders and rains

Beckons and calls

That which from the heaven could pour

And within its meaning conform.

 

Immersing it all,

As eternity would, set loose

Free upon the world to call

And within me storms to form.

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