Tree tops sway,
leaves darkening to a shamrock color.
That’s when you notice the grey sky
and the cool undercurrent in the wind.
Listen to the familiar creaking sound
of the branches and bark rubbing together.
That’s when the leaves flip,
white side up.
The air’s almost electric,
the humidity heavy with coming rain.
You wait,
on edge
until the drops fall,
heavy and fat and
pouring.
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