xiii. forecast
while the morning news
spoke of weather reports
and the day ahead, she
waited with forgiving palms
at a place where the blue
begins to collect rain
there was no cloud in sight
ix. a poem to my grandfather
I was not old enough
to understand
that my
last memory of
you
would
be
your
hands
]
]
—as a child, did my
father
let the
bathwater
run too long?
] was he honest?
]
]
]
could you
tell me
the color
of the sky
where
you are
viii. handprints
handprints on the
bed were the ones
we left near an open
window I forgot to shut
before the storm; in a
couple of hours our
impressions will fade
and we will not feel guilty,
they were never meant to stay
