Caught in the Drain

Last night’s rain filled the cracks,

every drop a story, a weight against concrete.

The storm drain gapes, a hungry mouth,

choking on the litter we leave behind—

a dance of wrappers, cigarette butts,

tangled like memories, always floating.

Leaves cluster in the grate,

swaying with the current,

like hopes caught in the current’s

tugging, begging for release,

yet still, they cling,

anchored to neglect’s soft embrace,

a reminder that we pour our lives

down dark, winding paths.