Gone Too Long

A thunderstorm rages across the sky, the first of the season and the lightning bounces off the west village brownstones. You set an alarm clock so early sleep seems nearly pointless. I heard a neighbor singing sweet soul the other day, when all our windows were open and the magnolia blossoms were floating through the air in the courtyard. Everything falls apart around you. She will not look you in the eye. You cannot decide how to feel. The rain pelts on your window pane in a fury, tomorrow you will be thousands of miles away.

If you wanted symbolism,
here it is in droves.