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On hot days when humidity rises, 

We stare at paths adorned by sunlight. 

Patiently waiting for clouds to hover, 

Never certain if they’ll release their tears, 

Yet feeling hopeful and parched. 

“Shower down on us!” 

We beg the sky. 

“Freckle our paths with life!” 


A Quadrille submitted to dVerse with the prompt to use the word freckle.