The drops that hang on edges of
Pine needles
After heavy rain
Don't realize how precarious their
Lives are.
They shine.
They shimmer.
They glimmer.
Their spark barks
Loudly because the sun
Shines brightly.
Nightly,
They fall
And crawl along the soil, seep into it,
Deeper than even they thought they could go.
One day,
They join roots to rise
Once more.
