Autumn rain pours like gasoline 
on the blazing canopy. 
The air still swollen 
with summer heat. 
I’m wet. 
You’re still not here. 
Above, two squirrels scrap. 
A hiss of fang and claw. 
Tails swirl like fuses 
into the bomb-black hollow. 
Boom 
Lightning now. 
It’s knocking on nine. 
Do you remember when we were 
sick? 
Thewindowfullofstorm. 
Skin licked with sweat. 
Thunder we could feel 
in our throats. 
How we begged the sky 
to split 
like a fat heron’s egg. 
That’s what want is: 
A keyless door and a crack 
of light.