Anonymous Poetry Poet Free verse

Perpetual Perishing

Whenever I sit
in the rain
and see
streetlights 
light the
pavement and
puddles,

the snow piles
from last week
creep to
the drains,
as if to wait
for next year
in hibernation,

I think about 
what's guarenteed
tomorrow,

and I laugh
at history's repetition
'First tragedy,
then farce.'

And I feel the 
unrelenting sun
from the summer
relent 
as I exhale.

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