exhale the quiet


       find me in the rain
              find me not,
      in the string like drench
              where everyone looks the same
       find me.
            thinking a lot and walking amid the haste,
       lumbering grays sliding over my head, and shades of
            purple moving through my heart, not unlike the
        nomads of tremont st.
       ...within the striking rain and gathering puddles I'm alone
            with all of you, and not...
       thinking...a lot, and walking as much feeling everything painful
             and weighing being washed from the top of my head to where
        the soles of my boots meet the city streets...
             like a murder of crows they feel the need to scatter, to shield
                 or shelter yourselves
         from the rain, the urgency makes sense for a moment...
              whether i walk, whether i run, i revel no less in the midst,
          find me in the rain, find me not.

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