Rain.

It was 2:30 when I turned the final page of my latest read

A book I devoured cover to cover for sleep wouldn’t come

Wrapped in blankets and clinging to my stuffed tiger

I laid on my back listening to the sounds of the night

My window rattled from the wind’s strong and weary song

A warning of the storm quickly approaching

A homeless man rummaged through the dumpster in our back alley

Searching for bottles

The equivalent of change

                                         The only form such a man will ever know

Sometime during the early morning I dozed off

And woke to the anticipated rain pouring down

I rose with a sleepy smile and stepped into my clothes 

Eager to venture outdoors into this seasonal weather

As I ambled through my favorite of nature’s miracles

Accumulated raindrops soaked through the torn soles of my shoes

            With wet socks and cold toes I headed toward the library

                        There stood a man taking refuge inside a black trash bag

                                    A homeless man – perhaps the one from last night

            From the warmth of my car I looked on and shivered

But I lack an understanding of what real freezing feels like

                                        Indoors and piled under a mountain of fleece

                                                Layered in cotton until my skin disappeared 

                                                            Comfortable. Secure.

Today I cherish the rain a little less.