Sunlight Has No Sound

 Sunlight has no sound.
Thunder booms, it rumbles, it claps.
Wind  howls, it whistles, it gusts, it's a zephyr.
Rain has varied tones and strength.
Sunlight and falling snow sound not.

His weary mind leans on the window wet with rain.
He's filled with dismay already, but
the afternoon's apathy has not yet set in.
The gold ring's in his back pocket.

The woman studies him from her chair.
She questions his faraway gaze.
There's no point in asking.
He doesn't know what goes on in his mind.

The rain speckles the glass.
He wipes his hand across the pane.
He sighs. 
Time passes gently.
The grass  is sparkling with sky teers.

She heads upstairs to bathe and dress.
Today's the day they'll marry.
The judge awaits their arrival.
They're late, and may not show.

The man stands at the door.
He says nothing about the time.
She finally slips into shoes.
They head out in the sad rain.

To the courthouse, they come sodden and dismal.
The judge starts the ceremony, reluctant in  tone.
Their eyes meet as vows are to be taken, and...
they turn to leave, without speaking.

The judge sighs and closes his book.
They venture home,
 unmarried.
The rain continues to fall relentlessly.
The man returns to gazing out the window.

Sunlight has no sound.
Thunder booms, it rumbles, it claps.
Wind howls, it whistles, it gusts, it's a zephyr.
He drops the ring on a table.
Sunlight and falling snow sound not.

©Ellen Pepper 2026