Rain clouds gather
Rolling from the horizon
Carried by a brisk, moist breeze
Ruffling the feathers of birds
A story being written.
No walls, no traffic
Just the sounds of abundant life
Without the cacophonous clamour
Of modern, city living
With pollutant smog.
Time to be
Time to feel
Space to breath and think
About the magic
Sitting beneath a tree.
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