Jess

After she’d gone
I saw her everywhere –
each place I turned,
like swifts at sundown;
black confetti
littering the sky.

And yet, now I see her
in the clouds, through
a flight of swallows
as a summer storm looms
high above a yellow wall
of corn...

until the wind
tears at the root of it all,
like antique silk
beneath the thresher.