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Month of Venus, you have brought me roads and paths, I never thought I would travel in silence. Meandering byways, dusty wastes, and oh how I have choked, on the fruit of your distaste. Yet still you bring rain; I grow in spots of melted snow... ...of summer storms and dewy morns. The cut of water smooth like glass, the sway of trees with hefty leaves, the smell of loam and fresh-cut grass. In a quenched release of eyes and skies, it is with resignation yet relief, that I bid you goodbye.