that comes down and makes my short short hair cling to my head. Remember that happier long ago when my hair was long and silk? Now it is short and straight out of my skull like every other boy's.
Rain that brings out color in a grey world and makes the trees eat earth and stretch higher. Rain that chills to the bone while it tells an ongoing story about what it was to be a cloud floating over the earth, the wind's child, long ago, long ago.
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