Rainy Evening

It’s raining outside

fat, cold droplets

smacking against the roof and window panes

scaring the dogs

but not me.

If anything, I’m overly calm

lying half-asleep

basking in the warmth

under the lamp’s watchful gaze.

The frogs chirp outside,

and the dogs bark back at them

from inside the warm house.

The broken bulb gives off a dim yellow light

and makes the air heavy, sleepy.

Lying sprawled under its glow

body heavy and thoughts floating high

I wonder where my family is

and whether they’re safe

and warm

as I am.

In my half-asleep state

my definition of “family” blurs

and expands beyond my blood relatives

to include everyone

and everything.

In that moment

I wish I could bring

all of my “family”

underneath the broken bulb’s light

inside the warm house

safe from the rain.

My mother and father,

younger brother and older sister,

distant relatives,

friends of friends, who I’ve never met

the girl with brown eyes and a bright orange umbrella

who smiled at me

as we passed in the street.

Even the random asshole

who wouldn’t take his eyes off my chest

even as I glared at him.

Lulled into a stupor

by the warmth of the house

and the glow of the lamp

I don’t care what they’ve done

or failed to do

I just want my family

all of my family

ti be warm in the house,

protected by the light.

safe from the rain.