In My Corner

I watch the lightening strike,

outside my window as the thunder rumbles by.

The rain makes the sound of a 1990’s New Age album

put out by Windam Hill.

The only thing that breaks up the beauty

is the siren of an ambulance racing down Plymouth Street

and I’m reminded of where I am.

In my corner studio, freshly painted with the windows open

and me sitting here in the dark with a candle burning bright.