I find them sweet.
A day of change comes,
when you'll know you have been foolish.
Weave us into the soles of your shoes,
spread our bodies across the streets.
See us in the sky, lighting the night,
or rustling in leaves after dark.
We'll wait between claps of thunder
tall, without regret, history, or fear.
Standing in the shadow of your breath.
We are of the same cloth,
worn to rags by the same stones.
