Bows laden with big green leaves,
Weighed down with rain,
Shaken by warm wind,lull me.
Stuck in traffic, the window slightly open,
I hear sounds of a wet city
As I await movement
On the Lakeshore.
My head needs quiet
To savour something that just came alive.
Yet, distant honking comforts me,
Do all cities sound the same?
I glance at the mud
Separating east and west travelers
Tire marks, the shape of two interlocking hearts
Love is here.
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