It seemed so foreign as it fell down in some sorts of trickles.
It nudged my cheeks, and all the other cheeks of us sociables.
How long ago was it that I was touched by the pale hand extending downwards?
How long ago was it that I looked up into your cloudy oculars, to see your white gazes?
And then we all sat under the newly planted willows, and aspens that shivered and undressed in public.
But it was not embarrassing, for the trees stood unabashed, it a joyful reunion with the nudges and trickles which fell from the sky.
And I grinned a little grin, smiled a quite large smile, and sniffed at my runny nose while a white finger stuffed up inside- a place where such actions in unison were not welcome.