could u cloud

having a night

far from this but home

before the

last lightning strike

when a smell of

fresh rain fall is in the air

a cool sound of a

very tiny waterfall

and a thousand little

splashes grind down

along this roadmap of sighs and

too short goodbyes

arriving just in time

to say

I was wrong

I am never leaving again

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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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