The sky    seems heavy today, the grey clouds   buckling   under its formidable   weight, watercolor-grey, like graphite painted over  with a wet brush.  A storm indeed, though  the  type that brings more darkness   than precipitation.
      Gloom, but little relief from the drought.
                                    Like normal.


                                                            Below,   the   long-lived

                                          willow   tree, with  its   trailing tendrils

                                         in         gr   e   en            and          ye    ll  ow,

                                              the        wi  ll     ow   weeps,    th   o  u      gh
                                    '             th            e       sky does     n   o   t             . 
                                         .      :           '            Its twisted    ^    )        /
                                    "            :       "              trunk and         :     "             ;
                                                                    re ach ing  roots
                                                               ev     er      sea rch  ing
                                                              ne   ve   r       fi      
nd   ing.

The End

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