The water ran down the hill

onto the street and down into the gutter

from the gutter to the creek

and under the bridge to the lake

They’d been on for days

even though it was raining

Feral cats grew hungry

Their food bowls filled with water

I wasn’t surprised when we heard the news

I saw the sprinklers in the rain

For two days they sprayed

I said nothing

The sprinklers eventually stopped

Her son came to check on her

She was in her 90s

Someone else feeds the cats now

The sale is pending

A new family

whose kids are excited about their new house

They’ll hang a swing out front

The little girl draws chalk pictures on the sidewalk

She swings under the tree

and plays in the green grass

The cats moved down the street

Do they know about the lady?

She was someone’s daughter, someone’s mom, someone’s grandmother

She was

The world has moved on

I met her once

She was nice to me

She met my wife once

She was mean to her

I saw the dad with his little girl

I wanted to ask if they knew what happened in their hallway

I didn’t

It was water under the bridge.

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Writing advice, poetry, and opinions on religion, sports, and life.

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