the lone cloud floats mid-desert
a bat returns one moth from a full stomach
the skinny blind mouse escapes the rusty trap a parched lawn feels the first drops of rain
not one of them moans or cheers
the box score or follows a daily horoscope
none applaud or hail their luck
or mutter whew at sundown
most life does not spoil
the story of their existence
clinging to every word
of every page
being alive is enough
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