In the entrance of both seasons
the liquid dripping off of things
and into cups is saccharine,
insipid, very sour.
The screams of children joined
together in the outside hour,
are a single scream abounding
as a siren sounding.
Being lonely in it's singular nature
in that no sound comes up to meet it
and so nervously vibrates limbs
leaves, wires.
Anything that can hold a drop
of water.
