IT WAS

It was quiet. It was raining.
I could hear the sounds of people talking
in the distance. Cars sloshed through the street,
sometimes the squeaking of brakes, the rumble of
an engine. The rattle of Carol's necklace.

The rain quietly tapping at the window and
running down the pane, drops dripping off the
ledges, the wind rattling the window,
the ubiquitous car horn honking repeatedly,
the car doors shutting, the different qualities

of sounds signifying specific different vehicles,
this one a motorbike, this one a VW bus, etc.,
and so on, all this known without looking
at the splash of the wheels.

The bells of St. Peter's and St. Paul's,
a wedding, its music box chimes.

The brass of the funeral band.
Someone talks. A woman laughs.

--David Joseph