raindrops reconnect,
holding their bent hands in sidewalk pools.
They brood with the lost
fury of their descent,
mourning the days of heaven condensed.
Perhaps puddles signify
oceanic attempts to colonize dry land,
or bring the lakes back home
Pedestrian boots
march through divided ranks of rivers,
splash apart wet hearts.
Once separated
drops of rain will rise
as the sun burns their tears.
This is beautiful.
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