Three days of warm, thin rain
Bring worms from nowhere
Into the small, marshy yard.
Some seem as big as snakes,
Wriggling between the drops
Drifting from a dull low sky.
I step between their dark curves
Like a cautious Buddhist monk,
Moving toward a distant sun
Crawling behind the clouds
Clotted thickly as the desires
Crowding the path to wisdom.
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