As I sit in this room, on a thin mattress

on a hardwood floor, I keep one light dim

and I listen when I can; raindrops clank

on the metal roof, in surges, that come

and go, as a tempo, hints to me, the wind

All the thunder, has now passed; away

I sit, and I think, to where’d it go, away

And as I do, I do find that, I hear nothing