Under The Weather by Beth Brooke

Remember when it rained so much

it felt as though the sky

had spent itself with weeping;

flung itself, exhausted,

in sodden heaps across the fields?

It felt as if the very possibility of morning

hung balanced between our outward

and our inward breaths.

The weather asked a question we could not

answer and the day became fog, the air

tasting like ash in our mouths.

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Beth Brooke is a retired teacher and she lives in Dorset. Her debut collection is out next year, courtesy of Hedgehog Poetry Press. She can be found on Twitter as @BethBrooke8.