Prose: Waitin’ on the Rain

Windows open
Cool air breezin’ in
Rumble rumble in the sky
In my belly
Black coffee sputters to the top
To my lips
Thank you, Universe
Tick tock on the clock
Biscuits rising
Cast iron’s hot
Eggs, freshly born
Freshly scrambled
On my plate
Kisses the smoked Pine Prairie boudin good mornin’
Last night’s farewell songs remembered
My roots misplaced
Where did I come from?
Where am I going?
I’m just waitin’ on the rain.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s