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Rolling

You are the rain hanging in the air
Filling me with sap
You are heavy like the thunder
Rolling overhead rolling over, over my head
When the heat just has to break
The rain comes
It pours
Into the cracks
And lifts
Soil deep and dark
It pools
In excelsis
You are the thump of drops
The quiet need of parched grass
From a deep grey sky, you boil
And your steam will coat the earth

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