The rain starts pouring at night,
hurling and tumbling the swinging trees,
the leaves choke in delirious wine and
dance with the raucous breeze.
From the musty window sill,
all mist no snow can I see,
Only the old Hibiscus tree, scattering
a pendulous host of red fairies.
The headiness of rain swept, wavy grass
Sink in my mind as I breathe,
drawing mouthfuls of peace hard found,
in our narrow cells of grease.
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