Everyone knows
the pattern of rain
dropping on the ground
have you heard
the sound of raining
on wet leaves?

When the red brick walkway
is plastered with
banks of yellow leaves
under half-naked trees
and misty breaths

The sound like
a drip in a porcelain sink
slow spatters of paint
landing precisely random
on a beautiful canvas;
the fresh slap of morning
for someone already awake.



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