The trees shed their leaves overnight. Now they are being washed soggy by a steady, drizzling rain. Gray, warm, wet. We wait, here, for cooler air, all hope and frustration. There are certainties that you count on. Hope. Elsewhere, there is a constant unpredictability and that is where hope is hardest. Rain versus youth, perhaps. The falling away of the light and the assurance of its return. The certainty of grief and the memory of old love.
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