40

Jazz notes ring out, Teardrops beat down on my window dress. Thunder has grown, Thunder sings loudly and repeats until finito says. Jazz notes ring out, Inside, Sunshine comes and goes instead, Again and again. Train tracks come along and eventually lead to a dead end, So; There are no take backs for what’s been said. The rain taps my shoulders, But somehow, The Sun’s glare still beats against the back of my head. Everyday is a little sun shower. Maintenance lacks the gift of sudden death, But there are no take backs once you’re under the bed.