July 20, 2010
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I smell icy rain
And taste bitter gray disappointment
That I cannot go out and play
But then I hear the clack, clack, clack of hail tap dancing on the shining cement
And laugh that the trees have shaved their heads and stand bald beside the slippery streets
I dash outside and watch
Leaves of glass fall from the dark clouded sky
And dissolve softly on my finger

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