If
the rain is everywhere and it is we will soon
be taking
to the boats and carrying with us only
our most precious
and lightest things: the birds,
in pairs or
in large flocks, two or three photos,
the
complete poems of Emily Dickinson, the
young dog
and the old dog, and the air around
us and in
us, which contains all that we are
and everything
we can hope to remember.
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