Listening to the rain felt like a good idea---
it felt like mine,
but it wasn't,
and I was sure I knew what was going on up there,
they were holding onto their flower crowns and halos,
most days were gutter balls,
but then there were strikes,
when they couldn't bear to look down upon us,
or spare us,
or leave us in peace,
those days,
I just like to think they missed us,
a lot
maybe more than most---
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