A February
Morning. Dawn does not bring love,
Only the roosters.
The clouds are so gray,
So even, they close the sky,
Contain light's struggles.
The rain does not wait.
It washes young buds from trees
Before April's bloom.
A jogger runs, heart
On her shirt. She runs for heart's
Sake or for her love?
A February
Night. Lovers walk in their rain.
The day is over.
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