Pause by Jennifer Pester

Pause

by Jennifer Pester

it shocks me, sometimes

the utter timelessness of a rainy night

walking

10 p.m. could be midnight could be three

all sounds muffled, all lights softly bleeding

into the encroaching darkness

all shadows twisted, humpbacked

by giant umbrella-shapes

here a burst of laughter echoes

there a car slides around corner

but still remains the almost mythical

solemnity of silent, dark rain

after which the world will stir, awake,

and greenly carry on as usual