Is a storm or two here comes
One now another valiant attempt
To clear the lungs of our baggage
Maybe it will rain pianos this time
Or refrigerators from leftover
Parties downstream drunken poets
Meeting again after aimless lifetimes
I had to write the same poem
For fifty years before they would
Release me one whispers
To the other who replies
My crime was words and I
Committed it every possible day
Until I could peer through the sky
And watch heaven pass by
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