to my unexpressed desires.
― Harryette Mullen
The weather
Would not conspire—
I wanted
A tender spring
Not unsettled.
Sunlight tarried
A few hours
Then relented—
And night
Opened a vein
And bled
Stormy times,
Distort memory—
Droplets glint
From silvery panes.
In the mist,
A figure passes...
Your watery wraith
In the rain.