(escapril, day 2: april showers)

I hear the pitter patter on the window and smile in my sleep.

The growl of the school bus and squeals of children are nowhere to be heard today,

Replaced with quiet drops sliding down our outside edges.

There’s time to stretch, to become reacquainted with myself,

I can roll out of bed, really roll, roll off the mattress onto the nubbly carpet with a yawn and a laugh.

When I look into the mirror, there’s blue black smudges under my eyes

And maybe some toothpaste in my hair

Remnants of the night before.

Not too pretty, but it doesn’t particularly matter

Not for a few more hours.

It’s another rainy Sunday and I’ve woken up early enough for

Fluffy pancakes

Cold toes on crooked hardwood

Meaningless chatter, inside jokes stretching back fourteen years

Knees stuffed under oversized shirts

Fond familiarity

All this squeezed in

Before church at nine.