of yesterday’s saved raindrops
hidden in the crevices of the leaves
sprinkles torn loose here and there
scraping the morning light as they fall
as if the trees stood and shook themselves
and sat back down so deftly
you could only sense some movement
but not the drops themselves
at that moment perhaps
the smallest things in the world
this side of the atomic structure
but full of light as happy children
who somehow have survived the rain
and finally fallen to the earth
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