By Nina Miglio
Senior
I remember my fathers whistle
A soothing noise that I was familiar with
I felt comfort in his presence
It was a daydream
He’d whistle and I’d go into a calm state
When I looked at him he’d smile
Whistle
Whistle
Whistling
The teapot whistles through my ears and down my spine
I look up at the clock, its 8:43am
I need to be at work in fifteen minutes
The keys clank and clunk as I rush out the door
Whistling
