Rainy lullaby Wednesday

Here again
am I, beside the window,
having beaten the rain
at the ghost o'clock of the bus
when I am the only soul to be carried
along a drenched country lane.
Umbrellas on the concourse.
Rain pooling in dips in the concrete jungle
while naked trees tremble under my gaze -
Focus. Kissing the Witch.
I am just a passerby -
I'll be California wishing on these stars -
Low hum of laptop,
low hum of light,
occasional passerby.
I'm drowning in the fog outside,
for I am as lonesome
as the solitary bus driver -
Focus -
My arms around a bundle of duvet
every morning,
my unborn child whom I cannot suckle.