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Drops.

Like a drop of rain, hanging from the leaf - that lofty precipice, fluttering in the wind - I fell from my spot in the heavens, and crashed to the ground. Singular, no longer, I searched for my pieces, and found many, but some were taken by the other drops, and by the grass. I found myself, too, with new parts grafted on, and I became distressed. So I cursed the earth, for making me what I was, for making me so fragile, and so abundant (that a droplet would go unnoticed).
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Written by
josh-highfield
American
Published
Apr 23, 2012
Lines·Words
22·92
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