---

There is nothing left

Except the rain

Deft

The flitting cross the main

A throughfare

So subtly here

Yet nearly there

This vertically fissile air

Broken by the waters

That had grown wings

A myria glimmering daughters

Too lofty for even kings

For none can catch

That which is stretching

Back to earth to latch

Forver reaching

For the next

Dew course

From sea to air

From source

To source

---

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