I hang at the edge of my brain
and I sit by the window –

it is raining.

Black clouds, stormy wind and
flashes behind the hills.

Right there on the other side of
the ridge,
the houses are silent,
but the windows are illuminated.

Inside – happy children laugh,
fathers drink wine and listen to
the radio
as the mothers fix some hot plates.

I try not to think about happiness,
kids and warmness.

I try to shut off my soul and embrace
the arriving brightness.

I lean forward
and the darkness leans with me.