Rain. Somewhere in the distance, but not too far away is a gutter drain, rain rattling inside, a soft percussion. And the highway sighs, wet wheels on the road. A box holding fluorescent bulbs sits on the windowsill. A blaze of daylight spills out of the white box, while night mattes the window frame. I sigh, the cat leaves.
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poemlet

http://elainegrey.livejournal.com/1240812.html
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Published: 1 year, 7 months ago (Sat, 10 Nov 2007 19:10:30 PST); 396 bytes
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