Do I imagine the sky is bluer
against grey clouds. The truck behind
me put its hazards on when we
were in the worst of it.
new windshield wipers. I need
the raincoat I forgot or at least an umbrella
I think between my thoughts
of the brake lights in front of me.
Last night, friends in Florida cowered
sleepless in houses
lest the wind land in the middle
of their rest like some unsuspected
I checked the weather,
watched how it washed its way
from west to east.
When I was young
I didn’t worry that rain
might catch me.
Just tucked my chin or lifted it
to stinging presence. Now,
my clothes might be abused
or I might catch death
in the bitter falling. Sky opens,
Homeric in cerulean and grit.
I think of paintings in carved
frames covered in dusty vermeil.
I might accelerate,
drive into the picture,
live in blue where rain
and grief won’t surprise me
on an otherwise ordinary day.
About the Poet:
Lori Gravley earned her MFA from UT El Paso. She has poems, published and forthcoming, in a variety of journals and anthologies, including Bitterzoet, SOFTBLOW, and Jabberwock Review. She travels the world for her work as a USAID training consultant, but her home is in Yellow Springs, Ohio.
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