Sitting Here

I am just sitting here, longing to venture out into the fresh rain. I hear it pour against the windows and lash against my door. How I long to welcome him in. In from the cold, in to the frozen depths of my heart. I am just watching him, sitting on the ground outside, picking up the pebbles on the driveway, one by one. His hair drips against his sodden cheek. His fingers brush the dirt from yet another paving stone. I am just singing to myself, here, watching from my encased window; humming a lullaby I've never heard. I wonder if he can hear my song, for soon to sleep will his drooping head go. Sung to sleep by my soft lullaby, drifting off to slumber to my slowly dancing tune.