The soft tapping of the rain rises in intensity,
mimicking the gentle roll of a snare drum,
pinging steadily off the leaves
while being pushed by an insistent wind,
bouncing off bowing branches,
drowning me in delicious drowsiness.
Dipping, swaying branches
flirt with a zephyr
that floats across my face,
bringing such a cooling freshness,
laden with a scent of wetness.
The lilting, lullaby wind
sounds like brushes on a cymbal -
softening, softening, slowly dying down.
A dark grey sky
fades to a lighter hue
where a single cloud dumpling
sits on the horizon,
biding it's time.
The rain eases, the wind calms.
There is stillness in the silence that follows.
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