twins in rain town

Constant pounding rings in Judith’s ear
as another day fades into black.
Melodies that only she can hear

thrum along her path as she trudges back
home, sloshing against oceans in her boots,
with her eyes closed and her body slack.

“It wasn’t like this,” Gramma refutes,
when Judy and Jo ask her about the rain.
“There used to be splendid trees, their roots

latticing the grassy banks by Silver Lane.
Now all we ever see are endless torrents
of water on a barren blue terrain.”

Jo clasps her hands. “Talk about the forests!”
She imagines floods reduced to streams
that weave around fairy rings and leafy giants.

Judith’s life now consists of mottled dreams.
She can still see Johanna sitting on the edge
of Silver Lane and laughing at her, it seems,

for not joining her on that rusty blue bridge.
“Why should we stay? There’s nothing here
for us. Even Silver Lane is just a bridge

that, when the moon glowed, held a silver flare.
But there’s no moon, no stars, no light,
only heavy clouds and rain.” Her words ring clear

above the incessant pitter-patter of the night.
“Let’s search some day for meadows in full bloom.”
Without waiting for Judith, Jo tumbles out of sight

and lets herself be swallowed by the gloom.

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