i thought of how
a thought forms sometimes
slowly 
after rain
at the tip of a twig

lingering, filling, clear,
of itself, almost looking, out here,
here of a thought
expressing
some vague sadness
some natural
precipitating joy,
some self-contained 
depending
release,
rounding the woody end in anticipation,
singular orb of reflection
slowly repeating
fugue, wishing
teardrop.