What is wrong? Why do I turn
From the face of grief?
Why have the houses stopped talking
Their eyes droop, their spines bend
They are leaning as friends over each other
They are sleeping

Rain combs her hair through the air
Too long, they fold
As darlings on the ground
Then she shakes her head
And the chaos stirs the trees

What is this bored suffocating silence
Sagging in my mouth
It leaves a bitter taste, coats my breath green
I am suddenly ashamed to speak