Ligtning bugs

lightning bugs
in the night air
of a calm storm
I, awake still, watch
the smoke I exhale

sitting cross legged
on the mat
on the porch
of Matthew and Jodi's house
on Woodside lane

I think
the bugs
have nothing to fear
of the storm
that leaves streaks
in my eyes
across the sky

lightning sporadic
like my plans for
a life
I drag
a cigarette and
think

I am no different
my home is theirs
but I am just
visiting
like the storm
my thoughts sound
I fear
like some

the thunder
rolling softly
I hear
I have no home.