The Gonzo Wolf

How lucky, raindrops

Knowing all

From sky to grave

And back again

Sea to air

Here or there

Do they know from where they come?

Have choice of where they’ll fall?

Seek the like-minded; severity in numbers?

Validation for existence, waving a fond hello as they fall from eye to thigh, then swiftly die?

Such short, beautiful lives

But humans are too dick-ish to care for the comings and goings of raindrops

Superficial ass-hats.