Nighttime

A tall glass of water and a pillow for my head

cool, fresh water and a warm, clean bed.

The wind is blowing heavy sending storm in winter’s stead

I can hear it on my window like there’s something to be said,

sounding purposed in its movements like I’m purposed in my own

shaven legs between the bed sheets, showered hair on collar bone.

Silence all around the house except the rain and windy hum,

as I settle into sleeping til the night is spent and gone.