
my face reflects in the window blue lit gaze my fingers move across keys while I watch the rain the days blur into each other even checking the calendar can be dangerous I counted three times before I was sure that sixteen days had passed water drops mix with fog on the glass I tap the screen to make them dance some fall away only to be replaced by others night is quiet now after the storm has passed sleep steels me in this cocoon until tomorrow ~ day 7 national poetry month