The rain is gentle
even in the city you can find the sky.
Smile when it helps, cry when it hurts.
Broken hearted again, loving you still.
A past shadowlike underfoot.
I wish you were here,
I'd tell you all about it.
Even in the city the sky can find your face.
It was Christmas Day and 35 degrees when I saw the smoke, rising lazy and
blue. Mt Pingerup loomed behind it, almost framing the smoke in its centre.
I w...
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