Rain and Poems

The rain does not care
It keeps falling
A gentle, soothing murmur of many tiny drops
And to keep the rhythm,
Some larger drops

Poems do not care
Autonomous, they spill from the brim
Flow on to the world
On ears, on souls
Some slip into receptacles
Like fish into the water
Dart around a while
Attempting a change of its shape
Then quietly merge into the soft same

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