Water dripped and tapped a window pane

the opaque look of a morning blue.

Sitting now in front of a fire crackle,

imagining just how short a life we lead.

I drew myself closer to the glass

that sheltered me from the damp.

I wondered about those that might

spend their night chilled, and wet and sad.

The rain would continue through evening,

and I would watch the night envelop my dawn.

There is a crystal ball lays inside a lull,

a rainstorm lets us breathe and feel,

so in the rains one day when we wake,

we find some quiet solace in its wake.

---

© Thom Amundsen 3/2022