In the silence that follows the thunder,
What can you hear?
I can hear footsteps,
Striding, o' so confident,
Down the hallways.
I can hear the click of heels,
The jingle of keys,
And the slam of a door.
Someone is in a hurry to go.
I can hear a voice,
Singing softly,
Unintelligible words,
Muffled by the walls between us.
The clink of mugs,
Pulled from the drawers,
Filled with the sound of hot liquid,
Poured into the cold glass cups.
I can hear the sound of the radio,
Playing all the favorite songs.
The promise of a relaxing ride home,
From that speaker,
Sitting in the recording room,
O' so far away.
I can hear the running of water,
Someone turned on the tap,
Maybe washing their hands,
Or even the dishes.
I can hear the sound of talking,
The voices of those I love,
Murmuring to each other,
Speaking of life,
The future.
I can hear the claws of a dog,
Tick-ticking on the floor.
I can hear the phone ring,
Sending a trill through the air.
The phone is answered,
The conversation changes.
I can hear the words:
'Wrong number.'
I can hear the clank of pans,
The opening of the fridge,
The rustle of plastic.
The smell of fresh garlic.
Food is being prepared.
More lightning,
Illuminating the sky.
Then a boom of thunder as it echoes.
Then the silence once more.