arrive and then it does, all too completely.
Now, we're in parkas and turtlenecks,
trying to stay upright as the wind blows
the clouds like tumbleweeds in heaven.
I miss heaven, used to live there--blue
and poofy white nearly on my head.
And at night, the black black sky, opening
up with rain, and in the distance, lightning
ripping through the dark, jagged
like broken windows.