A Prevented Falling
A slowly moving thunderstorm
with rain that never stops, her hands
will hold me still, preventing me
from falling as the planet spins
around and all the days fall down
get lost and washed away from us
through gutters and down drains to leave
us here to look up at a sky
which only holds the clouds and rain
that fall down upon us to wash
it all away eventually,
and leaving us with hands that can’t,
even now, hold the rain, and reach
instead for empty air as rain
falls from them like the tears we once
thought we knew just how to shed.
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