Doppler

The air is heavy with the weight of the rain,

and the sound of someone else’s sudden pain.

It climbs up the scale and then tumbles back down,

racing through the sleeping parts of the town.

The windowpane shivers against the old wood,

a rattling tremor that’s not understood.

I watch the red strobe on the neighbor’s dark glass,

and hold my breath until I let the panic pass.