Black roads glisten
The sound of cars racing
Through the puddles
Cooler winds whistle
Bringing that sweet smell
Of dirt and renewal
Bare arms outstretched
Showered from obligation
In refreshing rejoice
Crisp droplets gleam
Little glances of heaven
Falling to earth
"It just ain't at where it's at for me anymore, so don't let the door hit you when you leave." ~Train, You Already Know
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