Forecast

each year I want to but can’t shed my bones watch
myself from any day other than the present there has to be
a way to lose this velvet all I wasn’t in the mirror
 
I should be growing this unending rain clinking off
the tin roof into the drainpipes the weather said rain
 
for days last night I woke with pain changes
in the barometric pressure I felt in my joints
not wanting to inherit this inheriting it nonetheless
 
from my father asleep downstairs on the couch I want
to wake him and tell him all I dreamed about the deer
 
 
 

William Fargason’s poetry has appeared in New England Review, Barrow Street, Indiana Review, The Baltimore Review, New Orleans Review, and elsewhere. He earned a MFA in poetry from the University of Maryland. He is currently a PhD candidate at Florida State University. He lives with himself in Tallahassee, Florida.