Fattened grass

In the quiet corner,  
a raindrop dances,  
sliding down the window—  
a tiny journey,  
reflecting the world outside,  
blurry and bright,  
each drop a moment,  
each splash a song.  

We sit,  
lost in thought,  
listening to the rhythm  
of the falling rain,  
a little reminder,  
that storms  
feed the grass.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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