I don't love January rain-
at least, not like I used to.
Maybe it's being in a different house
on this dirty, noisy street.
I never used to feel this way-
January rain used to make me happy.
But the cold rain now lapping at my windows
reminds me my eyes have begun to betray me,
and my joints ache when the weather comes in,
and the silver gray clouds have begun to match my hair.
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