cleansing

it rained this morning
but I didn’t feel it.
i was nestled between soft down
and a firm matress.

the drops fell — making sidewalks that wet brown color —
the one that used to mean it was time to go inside
because little girls didn’t need to play in the rain.

the clouds waved goodbye to their moisture
but i missed the show.

i was sleeping
peaceful, comforting sleep
the kind that knows no enemy
only the secure feeling of being loved
and of loving
and of dreaming to the drone of a fan
that drowns out noise like
speeding cars
neighbors
barking dogs
quarreling lovers
and the sound rain makes as it hits
100-year-old brick

and so
i woke oblivious
to the suddenly warm, spring-like day

and when i stepped outside
the city looked alive.