Been sent through
The winds and
Hugs through rain.
Little anger of mine
In thunder and
Simmering care through
The lightening...
The clouds would
Have gathered and
The air would have
Hauled heavy.
The sky would have
Conspired with
A thunderbolt to
Flood her city.
But no..
She refuses to open
Her window and
The letters I had sent
Have come back.
A spell of drought too
Has been added now,
To my longing.
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