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Come gently, rain down on parched soil, souls washing grass, and me every thirsty thing until fire is smoke turning windward a whisp, no more
(Tim Carson, September 2011)
Rain is so refreshing, even as it cuts my morning walk short and soaks me before I get to the car.
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Rain is so refreshing, even as it cuts my morning walk short and soaks me before I get to the car.