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The rain envelops everything
In its cold, wet blanket
Of swirling, rushing water
No depth of sky
No perceptible shapes
No colours but grey
Only the inexorable sound of the rain
I’m wet and cold for a while
Then the world and I melt into fantasy
A unicorn flies
Not because the hours seem long
But because imagination has wings



Retired Adelaide based professional. Lived here most of my life. I have been a teacher of French, English and German since 1974 and value the capacity of the classroom, wherever that might be, to write on the lives of others.

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