Our rythm

In the distance a train rumbles.
It's whistle blows loud for us to hear.
With my head on your chest,
I listen to the music of your heart
In sync with the turning of the wheels.

Over our heads a plane soars by,
So low, almost shaking the windows.
The riders above prepare to land
While we chow in silence watching a movie.
Just our mouths singing in harmony with the metal bird.

I wake in the middle of the night to
the sirens of some emergency vehicle.
My hand rides your chest up and down and
I subconciously alter my breaths to match yours as
I quickly fall back asleep to make the morning come faster.

We wake up to "That's mine" and "I'm hungry".
The hustle begins, skillets frying, toys crashing.
I hear you putter around downstairs and know this is home.
I groove to the syncopation of our lives and everything around us.
I say to myself "This is it, I can hear it"


***two very key points. A...the sounds are noises usually considered annoying and B...each stanza gets longer through the poem. You can figure out why for both I'm sure :) Thanks for reading