What we held as old

A picture of the poem written on a typewriter.

The past 24 hours dropped
Rain for the entire year.
Nature cramming for
our test, whether we
resolve to change or
we leave it to her hands to save
    us.
It’s new out there.
New makes us forget the long,
the difficult, the hovering
Of what we held as old
And what we face moments ago.

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