Rain drops pound on the streets
below ny hotel room, reminding
me of how lucky I am to be dry.
Winds buffet the windows:
throwing bits of dirt against the screens.
Gusts exceeding fifty miles an hour
blow vehicles into neighboring lanes.
I sit here thinking of home.
My heart reaches out to my cat,
Home alone in possibly a similar storm.
Does he cry for me as I do for him?
I want to go home.
As I stare out my windows I think
Of how far away I am.
I am sad inside yet enjoying
Being inside and warm.