Drizzle Meets Dust

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The scorching sun has been swept away,
Some strong winds have come our way.

Trees bend over against the force,
Thunder follows lightning as a matter of course.

Drizzle meets dust,
The fragrance of wet earth.

Like brief moments of contentment in days full of clutter
A chat. A laugh. A cup of something or the other

A brief respite from the simmering summer.

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