It's Raining.

The walls rise high outside
On fury and a fallen word.
Tonight, fatigue will come in slow,
Like nets that scrape the bottom floor.

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North Dakota runs on wind.
But dig a hole: you will smell the salt.
All the trees collapse in one
And the fish will in one half.

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The first notes are
Black and white
But the swell soars and sinks.
I saw a trickle and heard a boast,
But what was is hard to tell.