Poetry: ‘I avoid presage’

Fringe ArtsPoetryEva Wilson — Published November 30, 2021 1 minute

I avoid presage

focusing on 

more

desirable

forecasts

it’s inaccurate, my presumption.

Sometimes…

I mistake

a couple of rays,

for a cloudless day

an ignored text,

for a busy day

a cloud of doubt, 

for a lack of plans

an empty hug,

for your lack of love

forgetting to say goodbye, 

the thunderstorm in your eyes.

I assume I’ll never have the right outlook. 

Yet I know after I’m soaking wet and cold,

I’ll find a way to heat up and be bright, 

until enough rainy days wash me away.

Read more: Poetry: ‘Her name was not clementine’