THE WAY THERE
Rain in the distance,
here before, will be again.
The windows have steamed.
Reflection from the slicked road blinds;
sharp turns cutting off the vantage.
But there is crystallization, clarity,
the closer you get
to the dark-layered thicknesses
of the heaviest clouds ahead.
This poem was first published in Black Bough Poetry, Issue 3: Yolk.