it is raining on this desert tonight
and I am a memory – a chapter from my childhood.
often my parents would yell at each other… it would be unbearable.
to escape them I would go outside.
sometimes it would rain
and it would cover me.
as a child it was hard growing up with them.
it was difficult to listen to their voices
and their frustrations with life.
but my life is not a result of theirs anymore.
I have grown into this man,
and I have moved beyond the memories of them.
as this storm passes through,
I will tell you this:
tonight this is only rain
and a memory entertained
by a quiet evening of my own design.