The Storm Is Over

But now it’s raining
below the greener clouds
of trees that were absorbent
but only up to a point.
And these raindrops
strained by treetops
should (you would think)
be filtered and finer
and therefore pure
(and not Chinese
water torture’s
fatter, darker drops
that always pick out
of all possible bull’s-eyes
your bald spot).
But these are late, last drops
and a little bloated
like late, last poems
by name your poet.

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