We opened the living room window
after the kids’ bedtime to see if we could hear
the footsteps of the storm.
We opened up to the screen door
and the cats hunched and watched moths
like dust motes against the wire.
The wind came in—the reedy voices
of the trees as they mimicked rain,
beckoning. The occasional blue flash
from somewhere inside a night-colored cloud.
We sat on the couch on separate cushions,
work clothes whirring in the dryer,
waiting for the storm to start
or for the quiet to end.
–
Devon Neal (he/him) is a Kentucky-based poet whose work has appeared in many publications, including HAD, Stanchion, Stone Circle Review, Livina Press, and The Storms, and has been nominated for Best of the Net. He currently lives in Bardstown, KY, with his wife and three children.