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Six tones, singing
The stream in hubbbb
The sharp tap of raindrops
Falling on my head
Shush of wet wind
Winding round my ears
The high hiss
of tyres on the road
The low roar of light traffic
And the intermittent splash
of brown puddles
Mud on the road
And the moor is moving
Pulled down to earth
By gravity and flow
A little owl sits
Bedraggled on the wall
Then off to the shelter
Of the hawthorn tree
Flies he.

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