from beyond my eyelids.
I must realize I am in Luang Prabang because
the thumping that begins is the sound of the monks pounding on their drums.
Why are they pounding so early?
It must be later than I realize.
Wait a minute, there is no TV in this hut
My eyes peel open.
The flickering continues
and is punctuated by actual flashes of light in the deep night sky.
Perhaps I doze,
I awake to the first sound of pitter patter on the roof,
the splash in the large tropical leaves.
I love a storm.