My voice and guitar echoed from
The wall of rain outside my
Window.

Wasps seek shelter like little
Refugees; pass my face and
Settle inside to

Dry little wings under roof.
I wave them only away from
My glass of wine.

All are welcome. Rain falls
Harder on the small.
Shelter and space.

Such easy
Things to
Share.  

Nothing unhuman
Could ever be a
Stranger.