In the gray and cold, a rain was dropping softly about me. I walked with a friend to get coffee, and while listening to what was being said, I was also trying to listen to the nearby river flowing. Under my hoodie I couldn’t hear its rushing waters but I knew it to be there.
Later with my coffee in hand, I sat at a corner table engaged in conversation. The river drew me to look in its direction now and again for the moving waters. Puddles on the cement let me know waters were being added to it with each drop. Inwardly I await the flooding to come.