Rain had come
then, more gently, the mist
no mountains
remain
only phantom crests
jagged with tree
silhouettes.
Like a refugee on the doorstep
sipping hot
tea
I watch the embers slowly die
the forest's scent grows
ever more heady.
The sky roars
a first flash
then
lightning strikes so close
that it makes me jump…
I'm
drenched in tea.

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