Rainfall

A rainy morning.

Sirens finally muffled by the domineering presence of storm clouds.

Blustery princes of the sky bringing the gift of nourishment.

Their grey robes are heavy with weight and raindrops,

Fall Fall Fall.

Fall Fall Fall.

Fall Fall Fall.

From on high.

The sound of tires racing down the street,

Sounds like whispers of the ocean I’m missing,

If I listen hard enough to where the rubber meets the newfound wetness of the road.