the rhythm of the wipers,
the trees bow to the wind.
you and i, the sweat and the tears,
one hollow, the other echoes,
one fire, the other darkness kneeling,
identities merged, then torn apart…
ghostlike faces at the window,
children turn, and walk away.
the long silence deepens,
death waits just beyond and before.
mountains carved in forever skies,
crumble, ground to dust by time.
and no less we, dust to dust,
the great sweeper sweeps away our memory.
love was the answer, and sometimes not.
the cross and the thorns, the stolen moment.
now there’s nothing left to talk about,
and nothing more to do or feel…
walking through the wetness,
i called the rain by your name!

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