The branches were bent by
Heavy leaves and the rain
Bending them further. I looked
Down to see their path:
The ground wet, the grass
Sparse from a desiccated
Year, and there was even
Less to see if one looked
Up, the sky being heavily
Burdened with rain. I should
Have seen this coming, and did
In a hypothetical way, not
Just the being borne down
But the needing to see
Matters yet to be explored.
The rain will become lighter,
The darkness lift. It is
Counter-intuitive to strive
Against the sun. Scorching will
Come despite my resistance.
My days will all be dry.
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