Forecast

The pack is filing

from my nowheresvilles

filling the halfway hotels,

braving the ruts and calling

one another via satellite.

A dollar says hello.

At home I try growing

a new life, one of many

women bored by

my womb’s mystery.

Who has time

to run a thumb

between her legs

and calculate

the temperature —

chipper and bitter

netherworld weathergirl.