If a southern wind comes up,
And Iowa fares hotter,
If a southern bird,
A long blue heron floats
Heavy in the sky,
If a thunderstorm piles in
From the Southwest,
Know that these are not omens
Of doom or ill weather.
Know that rain comes
When it is needed.

The Fourth Day

that you’re gone the coffee
is too weak. 
The morning light
in the kitchen sits at the table,
heavy, hairy, and hungover.
Day three fit better
the coffee still strong, warm,
the morning, Minnesota cool,
and you were closer. 
You had been here,
I could still smell you
in the folds of my robe.