These clouds gather around everyday,

So do the evanescent fireflies.

A still breeze musters up the courage to sift through the murky day.

The jazz drowns in the rustling of the giant Raintree.

Tonight, I see the stars through the impending clouds.

I see that singular feather, gliding aimlessly in the breeze.

The water in the pool turns and twists restlessly.

My tea gets cold.

A disquieted bat scurries through the night.

The breeze picks up speed.

Its raining now.

The beat engulfs my head,

— Panacea.

An antithesis of everyday.

Suddenly I realise,

It was the same yesterday.

I hadn’t noticed.

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