Perfect Day

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There is nothing but the
Same dark clouds that cloud the night
From which rain so alike to ice falls
And beautiful lightning webbing is emitted
Only to be followed again and again by
Deafening rolls of thunder like cannons in the night.

The pitch black streets are silent save for the storm,
And all windows and porches and doorways are dark as well;
No motion except the rain's mist and water
Disturbs any other's rest but my own;
My home is dark as the streets, only light from outside,
So I close my eyes and dream about the perfect day.





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