The dog came in
and shook off
water in every direction.
A chaotic rainstorm,
walking on four big paws.
The outside rain
fell straight,
in parallel lines
from a child's drawing.
Windless, blunt, and cold,
that orderly rain,
like a fate
uninterrupted by late love.
[Jane Hirshfield, 'Two Rains', from Come, Thief: Poems]
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