Greetings greetings everyone from San Jose. Everyone is happy and hopeful since the rains have revitalized the soil, and brought a respite from the drought conditions of the past years.  The sun is bright, and the library I’m writing from has lots of college students studying for winter finals.

Here’s a poem

I’ll die alone in a lighthouse

The weather wasn’t any better.
In the collection I was always meant to be.
May I be in heaven with only ugly people,
Because my weakness is easy to see.

The tempest was the wisest,
Of course it would be to me.
And sunshine was the shiniest,
I was truly free to break free.

But the snowfall has come and gone.
With another all too soon to be.
And now it’s a fog,
And I’m as blind as blind can be.

Wading through the weather,
Drifting on a wetter sea.
In the distance, they light fire,
But it’s not meant for me.

Without the weather,
We were meant to be together.
But to be, is to be weather.
Where for the worst or for any better.

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