The sound of thunder rouses me
but not from slumber;
I have been half awake for the past half hour.
brain feeding on or devoured by thoughts
caught in the sifting of speculation.
I slide my feet slowly across the floor,
wary of low edges in a strange room
that might strike a shin
and cause me to sin in some slight way.
I make my way to the heavy drapes
without suffering or causing injury.
I pull back the shades,
lean against the window.
Rain falls into the stark whiteness
of the Capitol Plaza floodlight
aimed against my window
from five floors down.
An occasional car drifts down the avenue,
lights shift in the wind and rain
and a motorcycle snarls its pain
against the soft silence of a sleeping city.
I unlatch the window,
slide it the full five inches it will open.
Pressing my face into the opening,
I feel the mist that swirls in the draft.
I close my eyes and wonder
if I could actually sleep standing up,
feel this gentle healing
soothing skin and soul in the cleansing
of a hot night calmed and cooled
by strong breeze and falling rain.