The steady din of rain upon the roof of this small place is a song, one of many that I love. The storm passes and I’m free to walk on.
All the sounds of life surround me: bird song, wind rustling dead leaves that still cling to some trees. The surf-like sound of distant drones returning to their caves of steel.
Tomorrow I’ll be one of them,
but for today I’ve run away to some beach
somewhere that exists in a far corner of my mind.