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Brendan Sansome May 2015
Cloud break as the rain quickly slows.
Hushed, from a cacophonous roar to the
sporadic laugh that follows a hearty chuckle.
It's last wet breaths stuttering to ground.
Then you like a beacon of warm sun.
Heating my soul with your natural born
light, as pure and generous as the Angels.
Soaking up my tears and calming my heart.

— The End —