With forehead pressed against windowpane,
I watched drops coalesce and slide.

Warm breath fogged the glass.
I thought of you, wrote your name
and smiled.

Time respects no sentiment or deed, that is why
I live in the moment, with sighs
that disappear, eventually to blend
with ashen clouds.

I felt a poem growing from fertile plot
deep within my soul, where conversations and
emotions trickle down, quenching
growing words.

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