I awoke to the dry sound of silence The rain had stopped
And the city breathed on the glass pane of the sky,
Opaquing it with mist, So I thought I could stretch To
write my name across it in clear letters.
The underside of the day was still wet But the air, It was warm And something in its winds filled me with hope
Whispering over puddle reflections Through dripping
leaves To tell me that I'd be alright Wherever I may
roam, And next year I'll be back here In December I'll
be home.
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