until they hit the ground
a few of them loathe the storm so much
they cannot wait for their part in it
to come splashing to an end
and then there are those that know
this is it
all they have is this fleeting clouded life
accentuated by brief flashes
accentuated by brief flashes
and steady rumbles
no greater purpose than to wet the air
before the sun comes back out
before the sun comes back out
and evaporates all evidence
they ever existed
slightly terrified
but determined
in spite of fear
to enjoy some
falling
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