Its a saturday morning and I look out the window. It frames an explosion of fresh green leaves and a wet earth. The air is cool and the smell of rain lingers - that absoluelty divine whiff of a parched land suddenly made wet. And my lines are prevented from becoming a cliche, by a sky which is a bright white, and not a brilliant blue. A cup of tea in hand, I stare oustide as my mind picks up on a thought. I forget the beauty, as it tries to think of ways to preserve a moment like this forever. Stupid me.
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