Some mornings I pray for rain.
Other mornings I wish for sun.
Most mornings I don’t know what I want.

Some days I see a car up on the county road.
Other days not a soul.
Most days it’s us up here alone.

Some nights there’s a light in the window.
Some evenings there’s no one home.
Sometimes ’round midnight I hear a voice.

Utterly in the grey –
an expanse
with no glance
of an ending.

Never stranger.

(3/17/2020 – Gregory Street, Madison, Wisconsin)