the first drop of rain we’ve ever seen still crawls.

we caught the rain when we first looked,
kept it clear until we learned to speak
and distinguish love and hate through
experience. there were clouds stuffed
still, reactions made memories,
perceptions molded too, and we polluted
the first drop of rain we ever knew,
with the many we’ve ever felt, when we
chose to walk
passively into the mortal storm.