You have been gone a month today
and have missed three rains and one nightlong
watch for tornadoes. I sat in the cellar
from six to eight while fat spring clouds
went somersaulting, rumbling east. Then it poured,
a storm that walked on legs of lightning,
dragging its shaggy belly over the fields.
Were it not for the way you taught me to look
at the world, to see the life at play in everything,
I would have to be lonely forever.
Delights & Shadows