When Clouds Spill Over

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When bitter winds make bloated clouds
Writhe and slosh, and twist like sponges
Spilling hard-earned drops on crowds
Of hard-working folks down below.

They land on roofs and long, black driveways
Appearing like grain in old-time movies
Or congregating white beetles displayed
In quick, choppy time-lapse on a screen.

They fall like darts from hands above
That release them aimlessly at their target
Watching them fall and pierce like love
Quenching the thirst of the tired earth.





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