Some days I sit and watch the world go by,
the rain burst from blue sky,
a length of twine dangles
for what seems like centuries
as it dampens me, pains my soul
sprays over like a drowning ocean.
What is light? Other than
little splashes of hope,
a star beam in the sky
a rainbow in the night
pervading blackness
where spirit skitters
across moon, looks down
nightly imagining a picnic
on a summer's day,
a light drizzle of shower
that blankets all in sun.
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