Impending

 Rising winds set the trees

dancing.

Leaves scatter, a poor imitation

of the raindrops to come.

Unsettled Night

 

I was immersed in an interesting dream when

I woke to a cold finger on my forehead,

images scattered,

fog on wind.

 

The second time in a single night,

summoned to swap wet sheets

and blankets for

dry bedding and

witness the small being

burrow deep

returning to her dreams,

a warm kiss planted on her brow.