I heard it in the rain.

How to love a long-living green,

a resting place at rest.

How to love a family filled with

sediment and wormholes —

How to love a lover

lest she think she ought to be

a have-to-love, a half-love,

a house, a thing, a she.

And how to love a miracle —

How to love a coward

and the candor to admit

it is a marvelous condition.

How, here, I heard it from

a runaway, heard it from

a villain, I heard it from

the living word —

and as I held it in myself

I heard it in the rain.

Again, again, again,

I heard it in the rain.

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for nicolle

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