A storm is near, all normalcy goes out the window.
The droplets make a soft pitter-patter on the
Stark, midnight concrete.
Inlaid with the tears:
Of college students,
Business professionals,
Homeless wanderers.
The salty droplets create a ripple effect in the water.
A man driving We are always in a rush He hits the puddle who hits The little old lady
Our destinations become blurred As the torrential downpour ensues. People, including me, COMPLAIN GRUMBLE No eye contact walking warily, wayward down the street.
But sometimes, maybe, the clouds in a storm bring Peace, maybe Clarity, maybe Presence. It may be.