water

The water falls into my ears and tells my body what to feel. My ears aren't listening this time.
--
These gray days often bring with them a sense of nostalgia for playgrounds and roller coasters, swing-sets dangling in the dripping, empty rain. I smelled a mist of dirty rubber being purged in nature's deepest secrecy. It's a fine mist of laughter gone home for supper, of suns napping early for a jumpstart awakening. That musk is home inside this rainy school building.