12:45 a.m.

12:45 a.m. and I love the rain
when it comes like this
hard and steady on an August night
the light of my cigar glowing
as I stand beneath the eaves,
Maker’s Mark in hand
completely in command
of my existence,
unencumbered not lumbered
with anything more than
this moment in time
this rhythm this rhyme
this feeling divine,
the rain wiping clean every last thing
so a new day awaits
with no fate no destiny
just me
and the story I write
after this night in
the rain that I love
at 12:45 a.m.

Winner of the Poetry Palace Perfect Poet Award Week 50.