The day after yesterday
bears a strange resemblance
to this morning, rain threatening descent
but hanging back for no reason.
We walk through the park
often staring skyward at a sound
or its sudden lack, but the crows
weigh on the branches and ignore us.
Even they fall silent noticing
the red fox along the road's shoulder.
It is he who watches us carefully
assuming we portend rain, and so
he retreats beneath the canopy of trees.
The rain washes our route home.
Hey!!
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