Teen Ink

   The cry of a child

Came to my door

Knocking inquiringly,

Asking me to explain

The heavy warmth of

The rainstorm

Hoping I could help her find

The Harmonica she had lost.



I responded sharply;

I had been inside, and

The night had not yet

Smoothed my edges.



I went outside to search with her

Hoping to understand the Importance

Of the lost Harmonica

I found two children

(the girl and myself)

Running in the rain

She played me a song on her found

Harmonica, and

The sultry air

Was washed away.