A drop, a wave, and a drop again

By Ellie-Mai Guirini

Glistening dewdrops sitting on a windowsill,

drip-dripping a melody,

drowned out only

by their rambunctious brothers,

a soul shaking thrum assaulting the concrete.

A sea of grey,

pinpricks of light quickly smothered

and waves upchucked by wheels.

The scene distorts and disintegrates;

the wave becomes a puddle.

The rain-heavy jeans

wading through saltine air,

pin straight hair coiling,

tangling in itself.

Heavy steps splattering puddles,

drops displaced,

gathering by our feet.