I am standing at my kitchen window, unaware of the time passing.
Catching the night moon glimpsed on a ravens wing that was ever so fleeting I’m not entirely sure the celestial orb is still suspended above.
My heart can feel the thundering rumble somewhere in the distance and I know the rain is coming, but it has yet to provide even a fanciful drizzle for my eyes to rest upon.
Stifling an unattractive yawn, I flex my toes that have begun to strain from my stance, and noticing the night get a bit softer at the edges, I open the small window.
Leaning forward, I strain to hear the wind in the attic of the forrest at the pending coronation of a new day. The slight breeze catches up to me and rustles the curls of my unruly hair.
Inhaling the fresh, dewy scent of the morning, I close the window and retreat to my bedroom, awaiting the night once again.