this can’t be denied.
glistening globes
hang as drops on the branches.
splatter thickly on the front window.
one squirrel searches in the front yard
Impervious to the rain.
no walkers or passing vehicles this morning.
the only sound are drops hitting the gutters.
reading Michael Crichton’s Timeline.
planning clothes and whatnot for California.
summer is on the cusp;
how can you tell?
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