The Sound I Wait For
I stayed for the sound
that came after the light.
Now I open the window.
The storm leaves rain
on the old wooden steps,
and the night smells of earth.
Lightning finds the trees
for a moment,
showing branches
through the window.
I stand in the doorway,
listening as it rolls,
my hand still resting
on the wooden frame.
The rain keeps falling.
I let the night stay awhile.
I listen a little longer.
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