It’s raining outside
but in this new place
I can’t hear it hit my window
or the rumble of the thunder
which I delight in hearing
as it tries to frighten me
but does so feebly
like a baby tiger
learning to growl

So I stare through glass
but at an angle
because I can’t see the raindrops
except by the orange lamplight
which reflects all the water
that swims trapped inside the globe
of the burning glow
and seems to disappear
once it has passed

And My God, these thoughts
tighten my stomach
and their hands scratch through my forehead
and constrict all of my breathing
so I try to erase them
as they try to frighten me
but do so feebly
that I can forget them
by trying to feel the storm.