Skies weep,
Rain-tears caught by the window,
Forming droplets that drip,
Converge,
Drip,
Forming rivers and tributaries on the glass,
Moving south along the rain-made map.
Rain-rivers moving south on the glass.
It is squeezed from the clouds,
The tear-shedding clouds,
Trickles down the glass
Slowly
Tiredly
Dismally, slow.
You walk out, into it,
with your umbrella at your side
closed,
Look up to the open sky
And open.
Weep.
Skin catches the water
From tear-shedding eyes,
Forming droplets,
Trickles, slow.
Rivers and tributaries on your face,
And you thank God for the rain,
For the tear-shedding clouds.
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