top of page
front porch

Kayla Slack

rain beats on the windows
in a steady rhythm
reminiscent of butterflies’ wings


spring has floated away,
replaced by summer storms
ahead of their time


i sit and i wonder
if that’s why no one has
knocked on my door


because it must be too hard
to even see my doorstep
through these relentless summer storms


but you–
you showed up,
rain soaking you to the bone,


tattered umbrella in hand
and you said,
“may i come in?”


–i said, “yes, of course.”

Spring/Summer, 2020 Issue

bottom of page