The rain is coming down,
Drumming on the walls
Outside in the dark,
Causing morning to drag its feet.
I’m okay with that,
As recent events are consistent
With a gloomy morning,
Raining before the parade even has time to start.
It would be different if it was spring,
The rain making everything fresh and alive.
Now fall is moving on,
The rain knocking the trees around,
Stripping the leaves, spindly fingers
Unable to cover the naked bark.
They stand cold and abused by the weather
With only their stoicism to protect them.
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