The weather
was my last
Connection to you;
Blown inside-out, I’m lost,
Wet-through
In the torrents
Of watered-down passion
Pulled to the starry heights
of everything-will-be-all right clouds
I gather up my thoughts,
Wrapping them tight inside
like an approaching storm-front
Unable
To subside,
Unable
To ride out the weather.
The weather was a fast
Connection to you
Huddled beneath umbrellas
Dashing through puddles
With a laughing, fresh surprise.
Now there are no charts,
No three-day forecasts
As our hearts
Drop like hail-stones,
Determined to bash
Every landscape
Hone every place
Into frozen abandonments.
The weather was my cast
Of elemental advisors
Whispering sunlight in your ear
Flickering
Teasing
Frost across your cheeks.
Now all is lost, deep snow
has reached those last happy memories
And I wait
Wait for a scraping chance
Of clear skies.