Untitled Poem 2

I am like the rain,

On a Sunday evening,

When your grandma made you smores,

And you sat curled up with a good book,

Stroking the cat.

Comfort is near the door.

It springs out of a cupboard,

Like a jack-in-a-box,

Lighting up all it sees

With the smile of a fox.

I am sleep, so deep,

In a Japanese garden,

With peaceful turtles

And the chimes of wind;

Laughter and cool words,

Like a drink of fresh water.

I am leaves on the road,

As summer turns to spring,

And fall is on the way down,

Coming close.

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