It's Still Life

Did You Hear the Rain

The radio is white noise,
but I can’t help
listening — falling into
“Did You Hear the Rain”.
I hum, and empty the dishwasher,
dry the glasses before they spot.

The phone rings.
Her ashes have arrived,
says the receptionist,
you can pick her up today.

And I can’t hear the rain, can’t hear
my own silence. It’s another stumbling
moment. Another intimate tick or two
inside my head. I lost the rain
on Sunday afternoon.

These’s no black hearse or black coffin,
no mourners. No three bean casserole.
She’s in a little pine box with her name
on the top. My eyes are red and ugly,
and I want to hear that rain fall.
Wash me with a bit of white noise.

YouTube George Ezra’s Did You Hear the Rain. Written for Miz Quickly’s Day 26: In The Mood