Rain

Rainy Sunday. Staying inside.

Laundry, grocery list, unpacking, cleaning.
Domestic day.

Content with that because the weather is inside weather. I can see the trees through the window. Rain drips down the glass.

I sent a text to my son who is away at college. Call me, I said.

I look out the window, through rain, grey, out into the trees. I miss him and I wonder what he is looking at now. Maybe he is still in bed, in dreams.

I wonder what he dreams about.

I start to sort the socks.