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Close Storms -

the newly appointed
rain
began to wash
over the cobblestones
that have spent
their lonely time
waiting
to be touched,

as yesterday's steps
filled with
graying clouds,
and thunder calling
like a lost lover,

binding streetlights
closing and dividing
each darkening
movement,

and in the aftermath's
storm,
the patient trees
stood up
in the blue coming
morning,
recognizing
the new day.
 
BeginningPoet
Written by BeginningPoet (James B.P.)
Published
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