So many poets say the rain can see
As if the heavens cry eyes down
Angels breaking, fields dark,
—Oh no, rain is blindness
But always finding home—
Something to be proud of
From branch to branch
Nameless
So many poets say the rain can see
As if the heavens cry eyes down
Angels breaking, fields dark,
—Oh no, rain is blindness
But always finding home—
Something to be proud of
From branch to branch
