Weathercasting by Claire Valentine

sometimes in traffic

you can see the purple clouds

weighing down the horizon

through the windshield of the car ahead

before you crest the hill

and see the thunderheads for yourself

fully unfurled over what’s left of the forests this far south

in the heat of late June

your bedsheets are crumpled against the footboard

and you wake up lonely

from a dream where you were holding me

to find that the pillows have fallen off the bed

there’s still only one toothbrush by the sink

one damp towel hung on the door

and you’re left to imagine the east coast skies I tell you about

and what it would be like

to make space for me in your dresser drawers

Claire Valentine is a poet and prose writer born and bred on the East Coast. Her guiding light in both life and art is love for her place in the natural world and the people with whom she shares it. Claire's work across mediums centers on the celebration of interpersonal intimacy. She is undeniably a romantic, and enjoys travel, dining out, and getting her hands dirty.