Forecast
I fell asleep in the rain.
Its too many kisses
washed my face away.
I thought it a dream,
but woke with little
to offer mirrors.
Now the sky
is clear.
However
the forecast
is for rain.
These are shoes,
this is my shirt,
this a list
of my sins,
my little pleasures.
Remember them.
Soon they'll be
what's left of me.
Note: This poem is reprinted from The Legend of Light (University of Wisconsin Press, 1995)
Bob Hicok is the author of Water Look Away (Copper Canyon Press, 2023). He has received a Guggenheim, two NEA Fellowships, the Bobbitt Prize from the Library of Congress, nine Pushcart Prizes, and was twice a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. His poems have appeared in nine volumes of the Best American Poetry.