Peering out from my new front porch after the last that
brought only bright nights and dark days, I watched
lightning spread across the cloud-ridden sky, its deep,
wine-purple hues flashing into
cobalts, brilliant hot whites, lavenders, azures . . .
I had once composed fleeting messages to a
partner that was never meant to become—
I shared the awe of rare weather’s wonders
that painted love letters in silver ink,
but that was just an ill-fated entanglement,
looking up, longing for a dreamy future.
I could never rescind how I felt then,
nor would I ever want to erase it—
rose-colored stumbles led me to gentler arms
where I have found brighter things were in store
than that darkness and heartache before.