is that rain I hear?

is that rain I hear?

or the sound of me

waiting without reaching

I notice how carefully

I am holding myself

as if something fragile is near

some days I feel steady

other days I count silences

and pretend I am not

I do not know what this will become

and that is the part

that keeps me awake

I move through the days anyway

doing what needs doing

carrying the not-knowing with me

if this is rain

I will not rush for shelter

if this is nothing