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Poetry: “Wet”

The state of November.

***~***~***~***

Wet

Oh, this
The eternal state
Of this month
So long
And grey
With clouds
Eternally gathered
To fill the sky
With sheets of rain
Perchance with cold
Some sleet
Or snow
The end result
Is always this
Go squishing home
All a-dripping
November month
It’s not one
To be missed

***

Copyright © 2019 · All Rights Reserved · Fantasy Transcendent

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