At first
the shuddering of the rain
is a new noise.
You can hear the cloud drains
being pulled all at once
With time
our minds push it to the background.
It spills over the other sounds still.
Before the bird chirp reaches you
it has dodged the downpour
has been coated
and adapted a slippery, drenched quality.
Waves of wind will join
to sheet across streets
flood the ditches
slap building sides
and finally leak over the threshold
where the wet shoes brag
about where they’ve been.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
At first
the shuddering of the rain
is a new noise.
You can hear the cloud drains
being pulled all at once
With time
our minds push it to the background.
It spills over the other sounds still.
Before the bird chirp reaches you
it has dodged the downpour
has been coated
and adapted a slippery, drenched quality.
Waves of wind will join
to sheet across streets
flood the ditches
slap building sides
and finally leak over the threshold
where the wet shoes brag
about where they’ve been.
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