Q & A

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There is a pattern to the rain

the sound of crunching leaves

the way music notes can ring

something to believe


Concrete and grass

apples and ash

baseball and masks

nothing left to ask


Dot the i

cross the t


0 and 1s

a rhythm to the roar


Can’t you hear it too,

a light shining from

the shore?




Would you


could you




in me?