SINCE YOU WENT AWAY
I see nothing but black umbrellas in the rain.
My fingers are blue from the cold.
I think of how you wore the raw amber neckless
hanging on the closet door.
My love for you is breath—is life.
I cling to your robe for warmth,
feasting my eyes on a photograph
of you standing with me before our tilted silo
that you loved so well.