117.
Many raindrops against glass,
Sometimes it takes longer
To disprove what is false.
118.
Frazzled willow,
Stripped winter,
I will break through the barriers of myself.
119.
This same stormy gale
A thousand years in the making,
Why should it be any different now.
120.
Rosemary on the window sill
Strains to be cooked,
Itch’s source demands to be scratched.
