Prompt: Langston Hughes: April Rain Song

A little sleep song, a little sleep song, a little sleep song, she murmured to herself and the sound of rain tapped an ambient rhythm. It was almost dawn. She'd propped herself up, bolstered with pillows, a wall of feathers against the day ahead. A day of feeding and chauffering and assisting and augmenting and adjusting and nurturing only to stop for a brief respite and then resume once again. A little sleep song, a little sleep song, a little sleep song. It's always darkest before dawn, she remembered and then was only slightly aware of experiencing a stutter, a break, a gentle wash from the falling rain.