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I decided to come out into the damp humid evening and lie in my damp porch hammock before I go and get cleaned up for the night. It’s been raining and I thought it was cleaning up but then it started up again. I love rain. Always have. And I use the term summer storm because for all intents and purposes it’s summertime here.

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The raindrops are still falling

The storm has all but passed

Though the rumble of the thunder can still be heard.

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The sun thought the rain was over

And appeared in time to set

Puddles on the ground reflect the light.

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The birds resume their singing

In the time that they have left

Before the evening fully turns to night.

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And still the rain keeps falling

Not ready to give up

The remnants of an evening summer storm.

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This pulls me right into all the sensations of a summer storm! Rain is one of my favorite sounds.

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I can feel this, can smell the rain. Something about your poem really soothes, Karri. I love this pair of lines especially: "The sun thought the rain was over/and appeared in time to set."

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Not ready to give up.

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This is so lovely, like a sweet little vignette.

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