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after the rain

The fog lays thick,
On the gleaming dew frosted fields.
A robin flits from branch to ground and back;
As I sit nearby motionless, silently watching,
As she gathers twigs for her nest,
And plucks worms brought out by the rain.
All is still,
Except for the occasional drips,
As the willows weep.
And the muddy water of the creek,
Rushing by, on its ways to meet the river.
Slowly the dawn breaks,
And the human world awakes;
Unaware of the beauty surrounding them,
That always follows the rain.





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