Wednesday, October 8


Sitting so quietly in my room this October am
The rain, pounding above me on the balcony
A sound I am afraid I have almost forgotten
It is a melody that drifts one off to sleep,
To dream of softly drumming drummers
Or of rain forests in far off places
Or of forgotten ocean towns, where only
The rain echoes off the lonesom buildings.
Yet this morning it is a start, not an end
A shower for the world before it gets up
And goes about it's hustle and bustle
Before the world truely starts, I can sit here
And listen to the fainty falling rain.



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