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The Rain And The Farm...
i stop after a
morning walk
it is raining and
i take shelter
in the gym of
the old university
i sit on the bench
and watch the rain
and the farm
fog creeps in
and the panoramic
view looks like
a wet chinese
brush painting
the colors
begin to blot
down the frame
i write it here that
i did not cry
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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