She appeared like a break in the clouds.
Providing a shoulder for him to rest his head on.
His heavy head, full with noise.
It sounded like rain, though there wasn’t a drop.
Like sheets of it, tapping grey against windows.
And he covered his ears to dampen the sounds, but that only made them louder.
That’s what happens when storms rage inside.
Thundering shocks of commotion, disturbing the pieces he tried so hard to keep from shattering.
Like holding armfuls of glass.
Every piece shaking after the thunder roll.
He walked through this tempest daily.
Looking for a place of refuge.
And he found it in the shelter of a dear friend.
One who stopped awhile to wait out the storm.