night
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We came home with tired feet, sleepy eyes, and two little girls finally dreaming. The stroller sat by the door. The house grew quiet. For the first time all night, so did I. Then, as if the sky had been waiting for us, the rain began. Soft at first. A whisper against the windows. Then…
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I didn’t leave the house to find beauty. I left because two tiny girls were crying hard enough to shake the walls, and at two in the morning the only thing I had left was a stroller and hope. The streets were empty. The trees whispered overhead. The world belonged to insomniacs, streetlights, and mothers…
Between Bruises and Blooms 