It's a small comfort
To leave your white hotel room
And go outside with street lights
To smell the rain
Warm mist hits your eyes
And ears
And by that time you recall
The cars, grass, sidewalks, signs, and buildings
All the same as at home
But you don't feel like home
And you feel a little lost
But adventurers seek out rainy roads
And hop the elevator to the shady 5th floor
It's the small bliss
Of existing in a different sphere for
A little while, and breathe the air
Of another ground
A little lost, but not unfound

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