A gentle shh trickles down from above
As rain pitter-patters on the roof
It’s deafening, and you can’t hear anything
But if you listen closely
You can hear my shoes
Sticking to the sugar-coated floor
The wind howls
And the whole world whips around
As a sopping dog is blown through the door.
Rain resumes
And everybody goes back to
The things that they were doing before
The City High Review 