The building I live in, with a single room of sanctuary and safety.
Fireflies in the dark when the lights are out,
Polaroid pictures of treasured memories, of people I long to protect.
A gentle patter of rain, the drip, drip, drip of a leak on an open window.
A breeze of dew and humidity filling my nose, a golden beam illuminating me.
Rubber tires slowing in the puddles across the pavement.
I sing. A distraction.